Forgotten
by Ingie
Summary: A novella sequel to Fortitude. To avoid spoilers for those who haven't read Fortitude, please click through for a better summary.
1. Prologue

**SUMMARY: Three years after the birth of their son, Link and Zelda struggle to resume their life together after a sudden accident drastically changes their relationship.**

I'm aliiiive! :D Well, maybe I can't say that, since I never actually went on hiatus. As some of you may know, I've been quietly working on the "Epic Edit" of _Fortitude_ (Epic Edit is my silly term for the last massive revision before I _finally_ declare it complete). I had hoped to be done with that by now, but lately I've been struggling to find the energy or inspiration to tackle such a complex story. _Fortitude_ is a labor of love, and I still absolutely intend to finish it (however slowly), but I'm wondering if a little variety might help me be more productive.

So I allowed myself to tinker with this new idea, and I came up with a novella of sorts. I plan to keep it under ten chapters, and I will hopefully update it on a more regular basis, but that remains to be seen. I admit this is an experiment of sorts - if readers don't take a real interest I may remove it and continue focusing on the Epic Edit.

This story is a small sequel to _Fortitude_ , but it is written in third person, and from Link's perspective as well as Zelda's. I have no idea how people will react to that, but I hope it captures your interest!

* * *

— PROLOGUE —

* * *

Thunder rolled across the darkened sky, and lightning flashed amidst heavy rain as it poured from the heavens. Creatures from every walk of life had long found shelter, but one lone carriage still hurried along the muddy road, its passengers determined to reach the nearest village before nightfall.

Zelda stirred and opened her eyes, disappointed to hear rain still beating against the rooftop. Her husband sat beside her, having spent the past hour gazing out the window while she slept against his shoulder.

"Welcome back," he murmured, caressing her arm.

"Hmm," she groaned with disappointment, breaking into a yawn as she slid into a stretch. "I was hoping I'd sleep through this."

Link scoffed. "Well, I'm sorry I'm such unbearable company."

Zelda laughed and shifted in their seat, snuggling closer to him. "I mean the storm, silly."

"Well," he replied, tucking the blanket they shared more tightly around her, "in that case I'll just have to keep you distracted."

Zelda smiled and laid her head on his shoulder, trying to ignore another clap of thunder.

"We could avoid this entire journey, you know."

Zelda sighed and pulled away to look out the window, watching the storm with a tug of worry. She knew he referred to the Ocarina of Time—a sacred heirloom capable of teleportation.

"It is tempting," she admitted. "But we agreed to bring it only as a last resort. Using it now would be excessive—and we can hardly abandon the guards."

Link moved to slip his arms around her waist, holding her close.

"I don't recall you showing such reluctance during our courtship," he murmured against her cheek. "Would you say we fled to the Lost Woods an _excessive_ number of times…?"

Zelda closed her eyes when he kissed her neck, reveling in the chills he sent up and down her spine. Years before their marriage, the two of them had courted in secret, forced to hide their feelings because of their incompatible backgrounds. They had used the Ocarina to spend time together in seclusion, if only to exchange meaningful conversation and innocent affections.

"That wasn't excessive," she murmured. "It was necessary."

"Ah, so," he said, kissing her again, "romantic escapades are necessary, but coming home to our son is excessive?"

Zelda pulled away with a groan. "Now that isn't fair. We had no alternatives back then, and Shayne is in good hands."

Link feigned a disappointed sigh, but she felt his impatience through their metaphysical bond—a feeling she also endured. A familiar ache had grown in her chest since the day she left home, an ache she knew would only worsen until Shayne was back in her arms.

"How about this," she added, turning to bring her arms up around Link's neck. "If we encounter another significant obstacle, we'll use the Ocarina. Is that reasonable enough for his Majesty?"

Before Link could reply, a sudden cry sounded outside, barely audible above the rain. Seconds later another shout followed, and the carriage gave a sharp lurch.

Link and Zelda exchanged concerned looks. _Are we being ambushed?_

They wasted no time finding out. Quietly Link moved to open the door, glancing up and down the road before he slipped out into the rain. Zelda tensed as he climbed up on top of the carriage, then hurriedly tied up her skirt to climb after him.

 _You stay in there_ , Link's voice echoed through her mind. _Let me handle this._

 _Link—_

 _There are only two of them, and I have the element of surprise. Just stay put—please?_

 _Are you even armed?_

His exasperation drifted through their bond. _Zelda. It's me._

She sighed and reluctantly closed the door. _Fine, but if you have any trouble I'm coming after you._

She felt him sigh in response, but he did not argue. Quickly Zelda summoned her magic, listening in suspense to the scuffling on the carriage roof. Holding the magic ready at her fingertips, she concentrated on Link's emotions, ready to help him at the first sign of danger.

That moment came sooner than expected, when she felt his sudden lurch of surprise.

 _Link?_

 _...There's another rider behind us,_ he told her _. An archer. See if you can take him out._

Carefully Zelda cracked open the door and looked outside, searching for the rider she knew had fired at Link. She spotted him about five meters behind the carriage, and, seeing his bow was nocked, quickly fired her magic before he could shoot again. He fell from his horse with a cry, much to Zelda's relief.

 _I got_ — Zelda broke off when she felt another jolt from Link, followed by a rush of frustration. _Link, are you_ — _?_

 _Hold on; there's another_ —

He broke off suddenly, and Zelda turned to see his own magic pierce the darkness outside. The rider dodged the blast, causing it to explode against the rocky cliffside. Loud whinnies filled the air as the carriage gave another sudden, violent lurch. Zelda caught the door frame to steady herself—just as Link and one of the bandits crashed onto the muddy road behind her.

"Link!" Zelda cried. _Link, are you all right?_

… _I'm fine,_ he assured her after a moment, sounding a bit dazed. _Try to stop the carriage._

With a flare of anger Zelda pulled herself up onto the roof, careful to keep a tight grip. She was relieved to find only one bandit left driving the speeding carriage, and he was too preoccupied to notice her. Pulling a knife from her boot, Zelda dropped down beside him, and, in one swift motion, pressed the blade to his throat as she snatched the reins from his hands.

"Get off!" she shouted over the rain.

The man hesitated, then quickly did as she asked, leaping off onto the roadside. His sudden cooperation puzzled Zelda—until she saw the road ahead.

A sharp turn loomed mere seconds away, curving over a steep hillside.

Zelda gasped and pulled hard on the reigns, desperate to stop the carriage—

She was too late.

The horses skidded and slipped as they made the turn, forcing the carriage onto its side. Zelda launched into the darkness, too shocked to cry out before she hit the ground.

For several terrifying moments she hurtled down the rocky, muddy hillside, unable to respond to Link's frantic voice in her mind. Then her head struck something hard, and she knew nothing more.


	2. The Slumber

.

* * *

— THE SLUMBER —

* * *

"...I found her halfway down the hillside, unconscious. I knew she was alive, but then I saw the blood..."

Link sat in his chamber, staring into the fire as he recounted the events of Zelda's accident. His quiet words were barely audible against the bustling attendants who rushed from room to room, tending to their unconscious queen.

To his left sat a woman with snow white hair and crimson eyes, listening in pensive silence. At his right sat a bearded, elderly man who carefully stitched a gash in Link's arm. The man was Geoffrey Maddox, primary physician to the royal family, and the woman was Impa, a longtime servant and advisor. Both were like family to Link—Impa especially—but even they offered him minimal comfort that night.

"I couldn't tell how badly she'd been hurt," Link murmured, "so I teleported us directly to Castletown..."

He trailed off, recalling the vivid memory of Zelda's lifeless form lying in the mud. Din only knew how long that image would haunt him.

"She could have broken her neck," he whispered, covering his face with his hand. "How did I let this happen?"

"Link, it was out of your hands," Impa soothed. "You did everything you could."

He shook his head, convinced he could have better controlled the situation.

"Don't worry about your duties tomorrow," Impa added. "I'll take care of everything. For all we know Zelda may wake tomorrow—and Shayne will need you."

"Shayne," Link whispered, turning to meet her gaze. "He didn't see us like this; did he?"

She assured him otherwise. "The staff made sure he didn't see anything. I doubt he even knows you're here."

Link breathed a sigh of relief. "I'll go see him just in case."

He turned to Maddox, who finished his last stitch and snipped the thread. "That should do it," he said, dabbing away the excess blood and wrapping a bandage around Link's arm. "Try to rest that arm while it heals."

Link murmured his thanks and rose to his feet, pulling on a clean shirt as he moved for the door. Two attendants stood in the hall, and quickly they greeted him with a bow.

"Is there something we can do for you, Sire?" the elder of the two asked.

"No, thank you," Link replied. "Is Shayne asleep?"

"No, my Lord. I'm afraid the activity woke him, but his nursemaids are tending to him now."

Link nodded and proceeded to Shayne's chamber across the hall, opening the double doors to find two nursemaids trying—and failing—to coax their young prince to bed.

"Papa!"

Link couldn't help but smile when his son scrambled toward him with his little arms outstretched.

"Papa!"

Link caught the boy and lifted him high above his head—earning a squeal of delight—before he drew him into a warm embrace. Fiercely Shayne returned it, burying his face into Link's shoulder. Behind them the nursemaids quietly left the room, knowing their king preferred privacy with his son.

"Why you gone so long?" Shayne asked, his small voice muffled against Link's shirt.

Link stroked his soft golden hair, feeling a sharp twinge of guilt. "Your mama and I had to visit some important people far away. We missed you very much," he murmured, kissing the boy's cheek.

Shayne lifted his head and touched his father's face. "Where is Mama?"

Link forced a reassuring smile. "Mama is very tired from traveling and needs to rest. You can see her in the morning, all right?"

Shayne's face fell. "Why not see her now?"

"She's sleeping right now," Link said gently, carrying Shayne to his bed. "And you should be too."

"But I wanna see Mama..."

"I know, sweetie," Link soothed, lowering Shayne down onto the bed and sitting beside him. "You can see her in the morning. Right now you need to sleep."

Shayne furrowed his brow, clearly frustrated. "But why she sleeping now? You's awake..."

"She tried very hard to stay awake," Link assured him. "But everyone falls asleep during night time; isn't that right, Scrub?"

He reached for Shayne's favorite toy, a plush Deku Sprout, and made it nod at Shayne. The boy was not amused.

"You know," Link added, "the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner morning will come."

Shayne's face brightened, if only a little. "And I can see Mama sooner?"

"That's right," Link smiled. "Now let's get you tucked in."

Obediently Shayne climbed under the blankets and snuggled against his pillow, clutching Scrub close. Link pulled the covers up to his chin and tucked them around Shayne's small body like a cocoon.

"Can we visit Saria tomorrow?" Shayne asked.

Link felt another twinge of guilt. He and Zelda always spent at least a day with Shayne after they returned from a long trip, usually somewhere beyond the castle walls.

"I don't know, sweetie. We'll have to see how your mama feels."

Again Shayne's face fell, and Link had to resist consoling him with promises he might not be able to keep. Then Shayne drew his arm out from beneath the covers and reached for Link's hand, grasping his fingers.

"Can you tell me a story?" he asked, gazing up at him with hopeful blue eyes.

Inwardly Link sighed, unsure he could muster the energy for a story. But he would only fret and pace once he left Shayne's room—and he couldn't bring himself to disappoint Shayne again.

"All right," he said, sweeping Shayne's hair out of his eyes. "What would you like to hear?"

The boy's face lit up. "The one with the tower and the big monster. And the hero and the princess!"

"All right," Link agreed, smiling despite his inward pang of sadness. Little did Shayne know that story was not a fictional tale but a true historical event. Link knew the tale because he had lived it, as had Zelda. She was the princess in the story, Link was the Hero, and a terrible, powerful Gerudo King named Ganondorf was the monster. He had seized the throne of Hyrule long before Shayne's birth, casting their once beautiful, prosperous kingdom into an age of darkness and death.

Link had been too young to fight Ganondorf, so he fell into an enchanted sleep the moment he touched the sacred Master Sword, the only weapon that could slay Ganondorf. For seven years he slept, maturing into a man until he was strong enough to fulfill his destiny as the Hero of Time. Upon his awakening, he and Zelda fought to reverse the damage Ganondorf had inflicted upon their homeland, and they succeeded. Together, with the help of Hyrule's six elemental Sages, they defeated Ganondorf and banished him to another dimension.

Despite their victory, Link and Zelda had chosen to erase the otherwise irreversible scars Ganondorf had left upon their kingdom by turning back time, returning Hyrule to the day Link first touched the Master Sword. The gods allowed them to undo all the pain and turmoil Hyrule had endured, but, because that dark era had been wiped from history, The struggles Link and Zelda faced had been forgotten by all but themselves and the six Sages.

This was why Link and Zelda told Shayne their story as a fictional tale. Whether he would ever know the truth about his parents, Link could not say, but it hardly mattered. Knowing his son would never suffer even the remnants of such darkness was all the reward Link needed.

"...And so, with the help of the Princess and the Sages, the Hero raised the Master Sword and cast the monster into the Evil Realm. The Sages sealed the portal, and the age of darkness was ended at last…"

Link glanced down at Shayne, trailing off when he noticed the boy had fallen asleep. Still he lingered there a moment, admiring his son's calm, innocent face. Although he knew it was impossible, Link wished that Shayne would always find such peaceful slumber, in the weeks ahead and the years to come.

In that moment, however, the upcoming weeks concerned him the most. How could he possibly explain Zelda's condition? Her prolonged slumber would puzzle him at first, but the longer she slept, the more anxious he would undoubtedly become. How could he protect Shayne from the truth without resorting to blatant lies?

Link breathed a heavy sigh and rested his head in his hands.

 _Whatever pain must come from this_ , he prayed, _let me bear it alone. Let Shayne be spared_.

Then, after dropping a soft kiss to Shayne's brow, Link blew out the lantern on the bedside table and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.

Torches flickered in the corridor, the only sound besides Link's footsteps as he returned to the chamber he shared with Zelda. He passed through the drawing room, noticing it had been emptied of all the previous attendants, and entered the bedroom with silent but heavy steps. Impa sat in a chair at Zelda's bedside, watching her sleep with a rare look of sorrow. She looked up as Link approached, searching him with a gentle but piercing gaze.

"How is he?" she murmured.

"Eager to see his mother," Link sighed, sinking onto the edge of the bed. "But he's asleep now. I told him he could see her in the morning."

Impa nodded. "That should be all right."

Link glanced at Zelda, noticing that, thanks to Maddox's use of fairy water, her face bore no visible sign of trauma, no cuts or bruises that might frighten Shayne. In fact she looked quite serene, lying in her nightgown with her hair surrounding her head in soft golden waves.

"You should rest, Link," Impa said. "You look exhausted."

"I won't be able to," he muttered.

"I figured you would say that," she said, rising from her chair. "I've made you something to help you sleep."

Link did not resist when she pressed the warm mug into his hand. "Drink all of it," she instructed. "I'll be back to check on you."

She gave his shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze before she turned and left the room. Link sat there a long while, staring at Zelda's still form before he remembered to sip his mug. Its sweet taste was oddly comforting, but still he set the mug aside and moved to the chair Impa had occupied, wanting to be closer to his wife.

Zelda's pale hand lay atop the covers, and gently Link clasped it in both of his, pressing a tender, lingering kiss to her skin. He tried to focus on her warmth, on her pulse beating beneath his calloused fingers—evidence that she might still wake.

Yet countless worries filled his mind, dragging down his spirits. What would he tell Shayne if she slept for days? How could he go about his duties, knowing she might wake during some trivial meeting?

...What if she never woke?

 _Don't._

Link closed his eyes and pushed those thoughts away. The mere possibility threatened to unravel him.

So, to distract himself, Link chose to speak to Zelda. Maddox had encouraged him to do so, reminding him that she had done the same when their places had been reversed. For several moments Link searched his thoughts, unsure what to say. Then finally he began with the two words he ached to tell her most.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I let this happen. I underestimated the danger of our situation, and you paid the price. If I had been faster… or more aggressive..."

Link trailed off and shook his head, knowing that was the last thing Zelda would want to hear. She would never blame him for what happened. Like him, she made a habit of blaming herself, no matter what the circumstances. Were she awake, Zelda would scold him, declare that he had done nothing wrong, and then take all the blame herself. Link would insist he was at fault, and their reversed "blame game" would ensue.

 _Then again_ , he pondered with a tug of sadness, _saying such things might draw her out of slumber, if only to contradict me..._

Mentally Link tabled that theory, deciding he was too tired for conversation—even if it was one-sided. Instead he leaned closer to stroke her cheek, observing her unusually pale complexion with a wave of fear.

"I know I deserve a harsh comeuppance," he said softly, "since I once kept you waiting seven long years. But try not to sleep too long. It's only been a few hours, and I'm already lost without you."

Refusing to break his bedside vigil, he then laid his head on his arms and closed his tired eyes, praying his troubles would fade with the morning light.

* * *

xXx

* * *

Ten days passed, and still Zelda did not wake.

An intangible cloud of gloom had fallen over the castle, affecting even the lowliest staff member. Whispers followed Link wherever he went, as did pitiful looks and sympathetic words. He tried to appreciate everyone's kindness, but he longed for a break from such constant sorrow, some taste of normalcy before he returned to Zelda's bedside each evening.

Burdened with relentless worry and fatigue, Link struggled to perform his duties. The High Council overlooked his shortcomings, but Link could sense their unease went beyond personal concern. Since his coronation three years ago, Hyrule had thrived under the reign of a just, charismatic king and queen. If Zelda passed away, Link would be left to rule as Hyrule's sovereign king. The Council did not relish the idea of another lone monarch, especially one who rose to power by such unconventional means.

Link, however, refused to give the matter any thought, and the Council knew better than to discuss it prematurely.

Each night passed more slowly and painfully than the last. Link found minimal rest only by sheer exhaustion or the aid of Impa's concoctions. Every night he slept in the chair at Zelda's side or on the drawing room sofa, unwilling to take a separate room, and every morning he woke to heavy, unfamiliar silence. A terrible weight had grown in his chest, and his fragile balance between hope and despair began to slip toward the latter.

His closer friends understood that he needed some form of distraction, yet Link found himself declining their invitations for such things as a casual night at the Phoenix or a ride through the countryside. He was unwilling to distance himself from Zelda, even if it drove him mad.

He managed to find some comfort in the time he spent alone with his son, playing in Shayne's room or wandering the castle grounds. Shayne's undying wonder and eagerness to learn soothed Link's troubled soul, if only for a while.

But Zelda's slumber had also begun to take a toll on Shayne. As the days passed, Link watched his son's usual cheerfulness fade to solemn uncertainty whenever he approached his mother's bedside. Shayne seemed to sense that her sleep was unnatural, and his worry seeped into his own slumber, plaguing him with nightmares. Some nights he woke in tears, calling for his mother until Link or Impa came to soothe him back to sleep.

"Why she sleep so long?" Shayne asked Link for the umpteenth time, breaking through his dreary thoughts.

The boy sat on the bed beside Zelda, clutching his toy Deku Scrub as he watched her sleep. Link and Impa sat nearby, waiting for Shayne to bid his mother goodnight.

"She's very tired," Link said quietly. "She needs lots of rest."

He was certain Shayne had grown tired of that elusive response, and he doubted it would console him much longer. He would have to find a more truthful answer without frightening him—and without assuring him she would wake.

"Is she sick?" Shayne murmured, looking up at him. His deep blue eyes—the same as his father's—were filled with worry.

"...She has a certain kind of sickness, yes," Link said slowly. "It makes her very tired, and she can only get better by sleeping."

Shayne furrowed his brow, pondering Link's words. "But when will she wake up?"

"I don't know, sweetie. We just have to be patient."

The boy sighed and drew closer to his mother, watching her pale face with a sad expression.

"Shayne, why don't you tell your mother what you did today," Impa suggested. "She can hear you, remember?"

The boy tilted his head and thought a moment. "Rosie and Conrad came to play," he told Zelda. "I showed them my garden, but Rosie don't like bugs—not even butterflies!" he added, stumbling over the word.

Link couldn't help but smile as Shayne rambled about his playtime with the Bard children. Zelda's lack of response seemed to dishearten him, however, and soon the boy's enthusiasm began to fade.

"When you wake up I show you my flowers," Shayne said softly, gazing down at his small hands. "They's pretty, Mama."

Link ran a soothing hand through Shayne's hair, unable to bear the yearning in his son's voice. A rush of emotion tightened his throat, and he swallowed hard to suppress it.

"Say goodnight now, Shayne," Impa said, watching Link carefully. "I'll read you a story tonight, all right?"

Shayne glanced back at Impa, then moved to carefully kiss his mother's cheek.

"G'night, Mama," he whispered, trailing his small fingers over hers. Then he turned and reached for his father, wrapping his arms around Link's neck.

"G'night, Papa," Shayne murmured. "I love you."

"I love you more," Link whispered, holding him close. "I promise I'll read to you tomorrow night, okay?"

"Okay," Shayne replied, forgiving as always.

Link kissed Shayne's cheek before he set him back on his feet, casting Impa a grateful look as she ushered Shayne out of the room.

Once they had gone, Link moved to sit closer to his wife, cradling her soft, unresponsive hand in his own. He searched for something to say, but the silence seemed especially heavy that night. So he simply gazed at her beautiful face, letting his helplessness consume him.

Waiting for fate to run its course had always been especially difficult for Link. Whether as a hero, a soldier, a rebel, or a king, he was a man of action. He had overcome the impossible more than once, even altered the flow of time itself.

And yet he could not free Zelda from this comatose state?

Link sat back in his chair and buried his face in his hands, fighting the frustration which tore at his insides. Sobs built up in his throat, but he painfully suppressed them, refusing to weep until she ceased to draw breath. As long as her heart kept beating, as long as he sensed her presence through their empathic bond, there was hope.

 _Hope._ Link released a shuddering breath, wiping away the tear that had escaped his eye. Zelda had always been the hopeful one, supporting him even in his darkest hours—even when she herself was terrified.

When the Retribution War had left him broken in more ways than one, Zelda had nursed his wounds and revived his spirit with undying determination. Years later, when a terrible curse had threatened to either corrupt or destroy him, Zelda refused to give up on him. Even after he lost the will to fight for his own life, she found a way to save him...

Link paused and lifted his head, struck by a sudden revelation. Zelda had saved him by channeling her magic through their bond and combining their power to cleanse away the evil inside him. Even as he lay dying, she found the strength to free him from the fatal clutches of the _Khaverte d'Refero_.

Could he use the bond in a similar way? To reach her? To wake her?

Link's heart began to pound with newfound hope, but countless doubts assaulted his mind, whispering endless questions.

 _Maddox said she could lie here for days. What if she needs that much time?_ _What if she's supposed to keep sleeping?_

 _What if you harm her by waking her?_

 _What if you prevent her from ever waking?_

 _No!_

Link shot to his feet, his fists clenched in frustration. He would be damned if he spent another day standing by, watching her life drain away. He had always hesitated when it came to using his Gift, but Zelda had always encouraged him to embrace it.

He could think of no better time to heed her advice.

Forcing himself to take several deep, calming breaths, Link sank down onto the bedside and gently placed his hand on Zelda's head. Closing his eyes, he began to empty his mind, forgetting everything from his lingering doubts to the soft bed beneath him. He focused only on Zelda—not on her warmth beneath his hand, or the familiar scent of her hair, but the essence of her beautiful soul he sensed through their bond.

Sharpening his concentration, he plunged deeper into Zelda's subconscious, driven by determination. He acted on sole instinct, not bothering to consider how he might wake her. Closer and closer he drifted toward her innermost core, desperate to shatter the barrier her slumber had thrust between them.

 _Zelda,_ he called to her. _Darling, can you hear me?_

She gave no response. He called again, louder that time, and with more feeling.

 _Zelda, please, come back to me..._

Silence. Frustration pricked at his concentration, and he willed himself to calm, to find patience.

 _You must wake, Zelda. Please, return to us... before it's too late._

The barrier surrounding her subconscious seemed to quiver in response, and quickly he sent another wave of urgency.

 _Wake up, Zelda!_

The barrier gave a sharp lurch and then began to fade, giving way to Zelda's growing awareness as she began to wake. Elation flooded Link's mind, breaking his concentration. He opened his eyes, breathing the name he had shouted in his mind. Immediately he drew closer to Zelda, sweeping her hair back as she stirred against the pillow.

"Zelda, darling, can you hear me?"

Then, finally, her vibrant blue eyes opened, blinking as she adjusted to her surroundings, and Link began to weep with relief.

"Zelda," he choked, kissing her hand. "My Zelda… Thank the gods..."

He was startled, however, when she drew her hand from his and weakly backed away, her eyes wide with bewilderment. The first words she spoke—in little more than a whisper—were the last he expected to hear.

"...Who are you?"


	3. The Loss

Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews! The response has been amazing so far, and I very much appreciate the feedback. You really do inspire me, and you help me consider things I might not have considered on my own. Thank you - I shall try not to disappoint! :)

* * *

— THE LOSS —

* * *

"Her memories will most likely return, though it will take time."

Link sat on the sofa before a newly kindled fire, holding his head in his hands. Maddox sat beside him, consoling him about Zelda's condition while attendants bustled from room to room, ensuring their queen was comfortable. Having slept for ten consecutive days, she had been famished, parched, and weak upon her awakening. Despite his lingering shock, Link had immediately summoned Maddox and Ariella to care for her. Only when he knew she was in good hands did he retreat to the drawing room, struggling to wrap his mind around the drastic change in his wife.

"How long?" he murmured, still staring down at the floor.

"Difficult to say," Maddox replied. "Days, weeks… It will likely be a gradual process in which fragments of her memory return over time. There are methods to help her remember; we can discuss that more in the morning."

"But she will remember?" Link lifted his head to meet the physician's gaze.

Maddox breathed a slow, heavy sigh, then placed a hand on Link's shoulder.

"The mind is a mysterious thing, Sire, even to physicians like myself. I cannot guarantee anything. But please, try not to torment yourself over this. I believe the odds are in her favor—and yours. It is far too early to assume the worst."

Link nodded absently, unable to find a response.

"My Lord?" A female voice spoke behind them. Link turned to see one of Shayne's nursemaids standing there. Quickly she gave a low bow.

"Please forgive my intrusion, my Lord," she said hurriedly, "but it concerns the young prince. I'm afraid her Majesty's awakening has caused quite a commotion. Prince Shayne knows she is awake, and—understandably—he very much wishes to see her. We have tried to calm him, but he's inconsolable... I must apologize for handling the situation so poorly—"

Link lifted his hand to stop her stream of apologies. "It's all right," he said. "I'll take care of it.

"Maddox," he added, turning to the physician, "let Impa know where I've gone."

Then he rose and promptly left the room, aware of the nursemaid following him toward Shayne's chamber.

Inside the boy sat on the floor, sobbing while two more maids tried to distract him with toys and games. They paused when Link entered the room, uttering apologies as they bowed before him.

"Papa," Shayne wept, climbing to his feet and reaching for him. Gently Link lifted the boy into his arms, holding his head against his shoulder.

"I wanna see Mama... I wanna see Mama..."

Link shushed him gently, stroking Shayne's hair as he released his frustration. Behind them the doors quietly closed as the maids left the room.

Shayne did not resist his father's consolation but continued to cry for his mother, a sound that tore into Link's already wounded heart. Wearily he sank into a rocking chair near a large window, holding Shayne close as he rocked him back and forth. He never spoke a word—every attempt seemed to die in his throat—but continued to rub Shayne's back and kiss the crown of his head. His attention proved effective, however, as Shayne's tears gradually quieted until he fell asleep.

Link continued to rock him in silence a while, reluctant to leave the peaceful room for the chaos of his own chamber. Outside a heavy rain began to fall, reminding him of the storm before Zelda's accident. The heavy ache in his chest grew painfully sharp as he considered all the ways he could have prevented her fall, all the ways he had failed to protect her.

 _But she lives_ , he reminded himself. _We could have lost her entirely._

Yet so much of her _had_ been lost. All the memories they once shared, the countless experiences that had forged their friendship and ignited their passion… All of it had been stolen away.

Their love had been forgotten. _He_ had been forgotten—as had Shayne.

Link closed his eyes, forcing silent tears down his face. He knew he should not give into despair so soon, but somehow, after seeing the fearful look in Zelda's eyes, talk of her recovery seemed but a distant hope. A fool's hope.

What would he do in the meantime? How much had she changed? What if she rejected her place in the world? What if she wanted nothing to do with royalty, or the family she no longer knew, and she chose to start a new life on her own terms? He could never keep her in the castle against her will, no matter what the Council said…

The sound of the door softly opening broke through his troubled thoughts, and while the visitor chose not to speak, Link recognized Impa's quiet footsteps. He met her crimson gaze as she knelt beside his chair, and her expression softened when she noticed the tear streaks on his face.

"How is she?" Link whispered, so not to wake Shayne.

"Weak and overwhelmed," Impa replied, also in a whisper. "But she's alert and willing to talk."

"To me?"

Impa nodded.

Link breathed a quiet sigh, unsure he was emotionally prepared for that conversation. Nevertheless, he couldn't bring himself to refuse a meeting with Zelda.

"Can you take him?"

Gently Impa moved to lift Shayne out of Link's arms, careful not to wake him as she carried him over to his bed.

Link released a deep, trembling breath as he wiped the tears from his face, reminding himself that he could not lose his composure when he spoke to Zelda. It was the last thing she needed to see, and it would hardly make a good impression.

Once Shayne was sound asleep in his bed, Link followed Impa back out into the corridor.

"Have you learned anything?" he asked as she closed the door.

"She knows who she is," Impa replied, "and she recognizes me. But she can't seem to recall anything beyond her early childhood. From what I've gathered, she doesn't remember anything beyond the first eight years of her life."

Link stared at her, struggling to accept the reality of her words. "She has forgotten… the past twenty years," he whispered. "Our marriage, our entire friendship… even the Imprisoning War?"

Impa placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"It looks that way," she said softly. "But that may change in time."

Link swallowed hard, struggling to focus on the good news: that Zelda knew her identity and would likely try to embrace the life they shared. Still, it was hardly enough to ease the gnawing ache in his chest.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Impa asked him, studying him closely. "It can wait until morning."

Link considered it, then shook his head. "Waiting won't make it any easier."

She nodded and slowly pulled away as they headed back into his chamber. Link fell in step behind her, overcome by a sudden rush of nerves. The feeling saddened him—he could not remember the last time seeing Zelda had left him in such a state.

When he entered the room, however, his nerves faded at the mere sight of her.

Zelda sat propped up against the pillows, her damp hair twisted into a thick braid and draped over her petite shoulder. She looked unusually small and frail in the large bed, but Link saw no weakness in her guarded expression. She watched them with the same bright, ageless blue eyes, and she drew herself up like the queen she was.

"Zelda," Impa said gently, gesturing toward Link, "as you know, this is your husband, Lincoln Tiresias Harkinian. To you, and to our closer friends, he is called Link."

"Link," Zelda echoed, speaking his name as though for the first time.

Link managed to hold her unfamiliar gaze, hoping his own expression did not betray his sorrow.

"Are you feeling much better?" Impa asked, settling in the chair to Zelda's right. Link took the chair at the opposite bedside, farther away from her.

"I feel a little stronger, yes," Zelda said quietly. "But everything still seems so surreal… as though my life has been replaced with that of another person. I can't imagine how difficult this is for you," she added, turning to Link with a look of sympathy. "When I woke, you were… The look on your face…"

Link felt a twinge of embarrassment. "I'm sorry if I frightened you," he said, his voice little more than a whisper.

"No—you needn't apologize," she quickly replied. "I can't say I blame you…"

Link shifted in his chair, eager to find a less uncomfortable subject. "How much has Impa told you?" he asked.

Zelda hesitated. "I know my father passed away years ago… and that I have ruled for nearly six years. I am told that our people live in peace…" She trailed off and looked at him, allowing some sadness to show.

"I know very little about… us," she added softly.

Link held her gaze a moment, then glanced toward Impa.

"I thought you should be here when we discuss that," she told him.

He nodded but then fell silent, unsure what to say. How could he possibly begin to share their story—every touch, every moment that had bound them together over the past eighteen years? How could he begin to convey the depth of their bond—how she was no less a part of him than his own hands?

As though aware of his inner struggle, Zelda spoke first.

"How long have we been wed?" she asked him softly.

"Six years," he answered hoarsely.

"But you have known each other many more years than that," Impa added gently. "You and Link met as children, and you have always been very close."

Zelda's probing gaze remained fixed upon Link, softening when she noticed his discomfort.

"Have we any children?"

Link caught a note of apprehension in her tone. "A son," he replied, forcing some strength into his voice. "Shayne. Shayne Nohansen. He's three years old."

"He's a wonderful boy," Impa said with a smile. "You can meet him as soon as you're ready."

Zelda nodded, but this information seemed to trouble her.

"I know so little about you," she murmured. "What is your house? Why did you take my family name?"

Link suppressed another stab of sorrow. "I have no house but yours," he answered quietly.

Zelda furrowed her delicate brow. "What do you mean? Who is your family?"

"I have no family but you and Shayne."

Zelda looked stunned. "You… I don't understand. Who were your parents?"

"I wish I could tell you," he murmured, feeling strangely defensive. Of all the nobles in the Hylian court, Zelda had always been the one who knew his worth without any explanation. With all those memories lost, would she regard him with that same skepticism he once saw in the eyes of the court?

Sensing the growing tension, Impa chose to interject.

"Link has been an orphan all his life, Zelda," she said gently. "He joined the army when he was only fourteen years old, and by fifteen he was a lieutenant. By seventeen he was Captain, and when General Keiton died he replaced him at age twenty-two."

"General?" she breathed, turning back to Link. "At such a young age?"

Link glanced down at his hands, taking no pride in her reaction. He had never taken pride in his talent for warfare.

"Link was the youngest general in Hyrule's military history, and the youngest captain before that. He was not born into nobility, but he has earned his place among the noble houses—not only because of his military prowess, but because he is an honorable man devoted to his kingdom. Your father recognized his true value, even when so many others could not see past his origins."

Link glanced at his wife, and the knot in his chest loosened when he found no judgment in her eyes.

"Nevertheless," Zelda said slowly, "I can't imagine the court would easily accept such a marriage… Much less the Council…"

"There was a great deal of controversy, yes," Impa replied, drawing Zelda's attention. "After your father passed away, the Council debated whether Link should take the throne at your side. Unable to reach a unanimous decision, he was denied his coronation, and you became the sole ruler of Hyrule. Link finally joined you three years later, and you have ruled together ever since."

"It sounds like we have a remarkable history," Zelda sighed. "All I can remember is that I was engaged to a prince. I can't recall his name or from where he came, but I know I was promised to someone."

Link drew a deep breath and released it slowly, embittered by the mere mention of Ashton Regaldi. He knew it was irrational to envy the King of Vandelius, a longtime enemy, but to hear Zelda recall something of Ashton and nothing of himself…

"Your father dissolved that arrangement years before you married Link," Impa said quickly, glancing toward him. "That man certainly has a history with you two, but that is a conversation for another day."

"...I see," Zelda murmured, glancing toward Link with a look of uncertainty. "Forgive me; there is so much I don't know. It's a terrible feeling, not knowing how to live my own life. I remember nothing of my family, nothing of my duties…"

"You will have tutors and advisors to help you," Impa reassured her. "You have lost your memories, not your potential. You can learn to be queen."

Zelda gazed back at her, seemingly unconvinced.

"You needn't worry about your duties," Link said gently. "I will handle that. Nothing will be expected of you until your memories return."

She turned to him, her eyes filled with worry. "And… if they don't return?"

Link swallowed, wetting his dry throat. "Then you will continue to learn until you are ready."

"But… that places such a burden upon you..."

Link gave her a sad smile. "Don't worry about me."

She searched his face a minute longer, and whether his words had comforted her, he could not tell. Her intense gaze seemed to pierce through him, and for a fleeting moment she seemed herself again.

"You look exhausted," she said quietly. "I'm sorry—it was selfish of me to keep you here so late—both of you."

"Don't be silly," Impa said. "Yesterday we didn't know if we would ever speak to you again. We are happy to be here, and we will leave only if you wish to be alone."

Zelda nodded, and glanced down at her hands, releasing the covers she had nervously balled in her hands. "I… I do appreciate you taking the time to answer my questions," she said slowly, "but I think I could use some time alone… to wrap my head around all of this."

"Of course," Impa assured her. "Solitude can do wonders to calm the mind and ease the soul. We will visit you again in the morning, if you like."

Zelda nodded. "Please do. I'm sure I will have many more questions by then."

"And we will be happy to answer them."

Impa and Link then bid her goodnight and rose to leave, though Link lingered a moment and turned to gaze upon his wife. She looked back at him with curious eyes—still the same vibrant blue but lacking the affection, the _love_ he once saw in them.

"Thank you," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, "...for seeing me."

Surprise flickered across Zelda's face. "...Of course."

She looked as though she wanted to say more, but, fearing his composure would not last another sentence, Link gave a slight bow and promptly left the room.

* * *

xXx

* * *

Silence filled Zelda's chamber as she sat before her vanity mirror, relieved to have some solitude at last. Darkness still blackened the sky, but she felt wide awake, especially while so many worrisome thoughts crowded her mind. Only when her overly attentive maids had gone could she begin to process everything she had been told, everything that should have been familiar…

Zelda eyes lingered on her reflection before she sighed and turned away.

 _Twenty years… forgotten._

The window to her past had frosted over; everything about her life seemed vague and incomplete. Her most vivid memories came from her childhood, but she did not _feel_ like a child. And despite the gaping hole in her identity, despite her inability to recognize her own face, Zelda did not feel as though she had undergone some bizarre transformation.

But she _had_ changed. Her life had been ripped out from under her and thrown back, along with a family she knew nothing about. Could she learn to be a mother to her son, a wife to a man she no longer knew? A man she could not claim to love?

And what of her duties? Her ability to rule?

An icy wave of panic swept down her spine and spread to her toes. Tears she had yet to release blurred her vision, but she quickly blinked them away.

 _It could be worse_ , she told herself, determined to stay optimistic. _I am alive and otherwise unharmed._ _My people are happy, and my rule has been strong. My son is still very young, and my husband…_

Zelda furrowed her brow, wondering how difficult the situation truly was for him. She could see he was troubled, but he seemed a quiet, stoic man, difficult to read. Whatever pain her memory loss had brought him, he concealed it well.

 _Link._ It was an unusual name, one she would not easily forget. Yet it invoked nothing—no memories, no emotions… She had supposedly married him for love, but she could not help her skepticism. Having come from humble origins, marriage would have been Link's only path to power within the court—had he captured her heart so he might one day claim her father's throne? He didn't seem the type, but people were not always as they seemed…

Even if Link hadn't desired power, the burden of royalty had a way of unraveling genuine relationships… Why should theirs be an exception? And if they had been so in love, why had three years of marriage passed before their son was born?

 _His belongings are here,_ Zelda observed as she glanced about the room, _which means we have shared this chamber…_

Her shoulders fell as she breathed a heavy sigh. _I need answers_.

Unwittingly her gaze fell upon a thick, worn book which lay on the vanity. Impa had left it there for her, to help her start piecing together the shards of her past. Curious, she reached for it and slowly lifted the thick, leather bound cover.

Inside was a series of pictographs she herself had collected. She remembered none of them, not even the first page, which contained images of her playing with a young boy she could only assume was Link. As children they had explored the grounds, traveled outside the castle walls with Impa… even snuck into the library at night to play games by firelight, according to the pictographs.

With each new page Zelda watched them grow older, more serious—and further apart. For two full pages they never shared a pictograph, and their smiles had become more guarded, even sad. Then, with another flip of the page, they were together again, as though nothing had changed.

But everything had changed. Image after image showed them laughing, teasing, holding hands, and stealing kisses. Three pages later they were married.

There Zelda paused, lingering over the full page pictograph of their wedding with a twinge of sorrow. How surreal it was, to see herself arm in arm with her new husband. Of course they made a beautiful sight, garbed in their royal wedding attire, but what struck Zelda was the genuine happiness in their shining faces.

Many more happy pictures followed—until Zelda flipped to her coronation day. The pictograph showed her sitting upon her throne, cradling a golden staff with both hands. Her posture seemed tense, rigid, as though she strained beneath the weight of her new golden crown. Link was pictured as well, standing beside the throne with his left hand upon her shoulder. His position emphasized his lower status, as did the circlet on his forehead. Both he and Zelda wore serious expressions, concealing their sorrow behind emotionless masks.

Fortunately, the burden of Zelda's solitary rule had little effect on their personal life—or so the pictographs showed. Zelda skimmed through them, pausing when she reached an image taken on Link's coronation day. Once more they stood side by side, each decorated with a golden staff and a glittering crown. They allowed themselves to smile a bit, but their faces held something more than happiness, something more akin to relief.

Zelda bent down to better observe the pictograph, blushing when she noticed her free hand rested against her swollen belly. Unwilling to ponder her forgotten pregnancy, she skipped through the next few pages, stopping only when her heart gave a sharp lurch.

For several moments she gazed upon that particular page, studying the image of herself with Link and their newborn son. Shayne lay cradled in her arms, seemingly asleep as his exhausted parents gazed upon him with adoration, their temples touching gently…

Quickly Zelda closed the album, her pounding heart deepening the blush on her face. How strange it was, to look at her own pictographs of her own life and feel as though she had intruded on someone else's privacy.

Pushing the album aside, she began to search the vanity drawers, if only to distract herself. They were filled with stunning jewels, circlets, perfumes—and a mysterious box, gilded with leaves of patterned gold. Curious, she drew it from the drawer and placed it on the vanity.

Inside lay a pile of worn letters, though none of them bore her name. In fact they bore no names at all. Confused, she slipped one from the pile, unfolded the worn paper with slow, careful hands, and began to read:

 _My beloved,_

 _Forgive my dull salutation — "beloved" hardly begins to describe what I feel for you, but my mind is too tired to conjure a befitting title for you, and I haven't the time to think of one (if it exists). I must fill this time with words, as many as I can spare. It's the least I can do after my waning correspondence. Please know my silence has everything to do with my duties and nothing to do with us—I cannot recall the last time I found the opportunity to write you. And yet my lack of response never deters you. Your letters still come, and I cannot describe how much they mean to me… Seeing your beautiful script, hearing your sweet voice as I read... At first I miss you so fiercely I fear I will break, but once that anguish has passed I find myself strangely renewed. I feel that I can face another day of this forsaken war if it means I can protect you, and that I may one day return to you…_

Zelda tore her eyes from the letter, feeling a tear slid down her face. Quickly she brushed it away, unsure whether she wept for Link or herself.

 _Love letters, secretly exchanged during the war._ It seemed too romantic to be real.

Her eyes returned to the letter, trying to ignore a growing sense of sorrow as she she folded the paper and returned it to its box.

 _This woman he loved so dearly… does she still live in me?_

Placing the box back in the drawer, she rose to her feet and strode toward the balcony, moving as though in a trance. She pulled open the glass doors and stepped into the night air, closing her eyes as the breeze cooled her flushed skin.

 _Even if we can find love again… will it always be a shadow of the love he remembers?_

* * *

xXx

* * *

Rays of warm light fell across the floor of Link's study, waxing and waning as clouds drifted across the sky. Link found himself watching them idly, unable to concentrate on his work. His thoughts remained with Zelda, divided between the woman he remembered and the woman she had become.

He knew it was far too early to grieve the Zelda he remembered. She could still wake one morning with all her memories restored, if the gods willed it.

 _But_ , his pessimistic side prodded, _what if that day never comes? What if too much has changed between us?_

A painful knot tightened in his chest, not for the first time that morning. Similar thoughts had haunted him since he left Zelda's bedside the previous night. For hours he had drifted in and out of sleep, plagued by all sorts of nightmares. Even when he finally rose with the dawn, his mind continued to fret over dreary possibilities.

 _Even if she does love me_ … _will she be_ my _Zelda?_

 _Knock_ , _knock._

Link jumped at the sudden sound, then breathed a heavy sigh.

"Come in," he called, running a hand over his tired eyes.

The door opened to reveal Lord Ian Pierson, Captain of the Royal Guard.

"Your Majesty," he greeted Link with a bow. "I bring news regarding the bandits in the mountain pass."

Link's pulse quickened, though he gave no sign of it. Days ago—mere hours after Zelda's accident—he had assigned orders to recover the carriage and find the bandits responsible for Zelda's accident. He knew it was likely a futile investigation, but he would not stop until he had exhausted his resources.

"As you know," Ian told him, "we suspect there were four bandits. Two were killed during the attack, and we feared the other two had escaped. We widened the search, and my guards discovered a hideout further down the mountain pass. They found a man living there, though he claims he had nothing to do with the attack."

Ian paused to hand Link his paperwork. "This report covers their full investigation."

Link took the papers but did not bother to read them.

"This man they found," he said, meeting Ian's gaze, "where is he now?"

The elder man smiled.

"In the dungeon, Sire, awaiting your interrogation."


	4. Uncertainty

.

* * *

— UNCERTAINTY —

* * *

Urgency quickened Link's pace as he strode through the corridors and down toward the dungeon, accompanied by Ian. Behind them followed two pairs of guards, their armor clattering with every rhythmic step. The castle staff and residents paused to watch them, nodding or bowing to their king as he passed. Link remembered to mask his eagerness, to maintain a calm demeanor despite his desperate need for answers.

As they approached the prison interrogation room, Link fell in step between the guards while Ian entered first, as proper procedure dictated. The guards led their king to a table on the far side of the room, away from the prisoner. There Link took a seat while the guards stood behind him—two at his left, and two at his right—allowing him to observe the interrogation without distraction.

The prisoner sat shackled to a chair bolted to the floor at the center of the room. He appeared malnourished and disheveled, despite the clean cell and decent meals he had received. His greying hair and ragged face betrayed his age, and his nervous demeanor suggested guilt. Link set these observations aside, however, knowing he must watch the interrogation with an unbiased mind—difficult though it was.

"Your Majesty," Ian addressed Link. "I present to you Mr. Rodan of Malchevia. His official record is vague at best, and so far he has managed to avoid the Malchevian authorities. He claims to operate alone, but we have reason to believe he recently joined a group known as the Red Knaves, who are likely behind the ambush under investigation."

"What?" Rodan spoke up, his voice hoarse. "Wait, you got this all wrong—"

"You will be _silent_ until you are permitted to speak," Ian hissed.

Rodan bowed his head in a fearful, sheepish display.

"As you have been informed," Ian continued, addressing Link in his more courteous tone, "two of those men were killed during the ambush, but two others escaped. If our suspicions are true, this man is our only lead to finding them."

Ian paused then, awaiting permission to begin the interrogation, and Link gave him a small nod.

"Proceed."

Ian turned back to Rodan, who looked up with a fearful expression.

"You needn't look so afraid," Ian said, clasping his hands behind his back. "Hyrule is a peaceful, civilized kingdom. We do not resort to cruel methods to gain information, as they do in your homeland."

Rodan swallowed and glanced across the room, unable to see Link's face in the shadows.

"However," Ian added, "we do expect your full cooperation. Unless you prefer a Malchevian interrogation, you will tell us everything you know about the Knaves."

"Please, I've got nothin' to do with them—"

"Where were you the night the ambush took place?" Ian spoke over him.

"I… in my hideout…"

"The Knaves' hideout."

"No, it's mine. I work alone—"

"Then explain how we found these items, reportedly stolen by the Knaves, in _your_ hideout?" Ian thrust a list before Rodan's face. "Or did you steal these all on your own?"

Nervously Rodan peered at the list, struggling to read it. Link glanced at his own copy, noting the many expensive items.

"I know the Malchevian authorities would be happy to hear your confession to these crimes—"

"All right, it wasn't my hideout!" Rodan burst out. "I'm a scavenger, all right? I track other thieves and rob them when their backs are turned."

Ian straightened and crossed his arms. "You expect us to believe that?"

"It's the truth! I trust no one but myself, ye hear? And I sure as hell wouldn't work with the Knaves. Those men are brutal."

"And yet you tracked them, even stole from them."

"Hey, I was followin' a lead, thas' all! Once I knew who they was, I would have gone before you can say suicide; believe me!"

Disappointment, cold and heavy, sank to the pit of Link's chest before frustration burned it away. _This is a waste of time._

Abruptly he rose from his chair,drawing the immediate attention of everyone in the room.

"My Lord?" Ian inquired, stepping back as Link approached the prisoner. Rodan quickly lowered his gaze, prompting Link to speak.

"Look at me."

Obediently he looked up, visibly unsettled by the king's piercing, unwavering gaze. Within moments Link recognized something in the elder man's eyes: the look of a man cornered and afraid, a man with nothing to hide.

"Return him to his cell," Link said quietly, his eyes still fixed on Rodan. "We're finished here."

Ian seemed taken aback "My Lord?"

Link turned to meet his gaze. "Interrogate him as you see fit, but I've heard enough. This a dead end, Captain."

With that he turned and walked away,his guards following suit.

"Wh—wait! What are you gonna do with me?" Rodan shouted as Link headed for the door. 'Please don't send me back! I don't know anything about the Knaves; I swear!"

Link ignored him and left the room, listening until the door slammed behind him.

"Leave me," he ordered his guards, relieved to hear their metallic steps fade as he walked the corridor alone.

Quickly he began the long ascent back to his study, struggling to hide his growing frustration. Again the castle residents greeted him with reverence, but he quickly passed them by, too agitated for even the smallest acknowledgement.

Once he reached his study, Link quickly shut the door and approached his desk. There he paused and inhaled deeply, struggling to control his conflicting emotions. Dismissing their only lead on the assailants' location had disappointed him, but the feeling paled next the rage he felt towed himself.

Even if they managed to capture and identify the bandits, it would change nothing. No punishment he gave would alter the cold, hard truth:

The Zelda he loved was gone, possibly forever… because he had been bested by a group of thugs.

Biting back a scream, Link swept his arm across the desk, knocking books and papers to the floor. Then he moved to the window and gripped the ledge, fighting to accept that reality. Self-loathing filled every crevice of his mind, choking him with disgust. How could he ever look at himself again, knowing the extent of his failure?

You _call yourself a hero? A general? A king? What a laugh._

A quiet knock sounded at the door, drawing his attention.

"Not now," he called.

Still the door opened, and he turned to see Impa enter the room.

"I need to be alone right now," he said, letting her see his frustration.

She closed the door behind her, glancing toward the mess on the floor. "So you can torment yourself with guilt? I can't allow that, Link."

He turned back to the window, tightening his grip of the ledge. "I don't expect you to understand."

"I understand we have no more leads," she replied, crossing the room to stand beside him. "I also understand those men targeted anyone traveling the mountain pass." Her voice softened as she studied his profile. "They were common thieves, men you would normally defeat in minutes."

Link clenched his jaw and stared out the window, swallowing his bitter retort.

"I also know the conditions you faced were–"

"Please, Impa… don't," Link cut her off. "Don't try to console me. I made a terrible mistake, and I must accept that in my own time."

Impa sighed through her nose, watching as Link knelt down to pick up the papers he had strewn across the floor.

"A mistake?" she pressed, bending down to help him. "And what could you have done to prevent what happened?"

"Everything," he said bitterly. "Anything. I could have ended it before it became so dangerous."

Letting Impa take the papers, Link sank into his armchair and rested his head in his hands, recalling his struggle against the bandits.

"I could have stopped the carriage in time," he murmured. "If I hadn't used magic… If I had fought to kill…"

Impa laid a hand on his shoulder. "You showed them mercy, Link. That is nothing to be ashamed of. Zelda attacked with magic first, didn't she? She could have easily triggered the same incident. And she could have fought to kill—or at least abandoned the carriage. Do you blame her for any of that?"

"Of course not," he muttered.

"Then why blame yourself?"

Link stared down at his hands, refusing to reply. He could not deny her logic, but it did not comfort him.

Slowly Impa drew up a chair to sit across from him, reaching out to gently caress his arm.

"Even you can't control everything," she soothed. "You are in enough pain as it is… Don't punish yourself like this."

He swallowed hard, struggling to control his composure beneath her piercing, knowing gaze.

"How is she?" he asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

"…Still overwhelmed, I think, but that's only natural. She must relearn a great deal–current events, history she might have forgotten, economics, foreign affairs, even dance. And of course there's her magic. I plan to spend the next several days determining what she knows and what she has forgotten. It's possible reviewing the material will help her remember it."

Link nodded solemnly. "Make sure she has enough spare time to spend with Shayne," he murmured.

"Of course. And with you as well."

"Only if she wishes it."

"She is quite eager to learn more about you, Link. I've answered her most basic questions, but I think you should be the one to fill the remaining gaps."

He met her gaze, furrowing his brow. "I intend to… when she's ready for it."

"Oh, come now, Link; you needn't tell her everything in one day. You don't even have to start at the beginning. Let her ask questions, and see where the conversation leads you."

He considered this, suppressing a quiet flutter of nerves. "When can I see her?"

"I recall her inviting you to come by this morning."

"Yes, but…"

"Link." Impa placed her hand over his, giving him a knowing look. "Zelda has never valued empty words, and that much hasn't changed. _Go to her_."

He breathed a slow, quiet sigh, then nodded and rose to his feet–only to pause a few steps away.

"…Thank you," he murmured.

Impa turned to watch him go, her smile fading with a rare look of sadness.

* * *

xXx

* * *

Zelda sat before the massive bay window in the drawing room, hugging her knees toward her chest so she was completely hidden by the curtain. She felt oddly safe, huddled in that small, private space between the window and the drapes. It was something she remembered doing all the time, but she had likely abandoned the habit years ago, before she became an adult…

Zelda breathed a quiet sigh, watching her breath fog the glass as she admired the gardens below. It was not the view she remembered seeing every morning, but it was equally lovely, if not more so.

She could not deny that her current bedchamber left her a bit homesick for the one she remembered, but she resisted the urge to even visit her old room. For six years she had called her current chamber home, and there she would stay. She couldn't complain about the change—the drawing room was a lovely, tranquil space with soft blue walls and plush white fabrics, complete with a grand fireplace. The bedroom was equally charming with rich green and warm brown tones, reminiscent of a forest glade.

It wasn't the home she remembered, but she could embrace it as such, especially since her son slept just across the hall...

 _My son..._

Knowing she had conceived, carried, and delivered a now three-year-old boy amazed her as much as it troubled her. Zelda tried not to dwell on those conflicted feelings, at least until she had come to know Shayne. If what Impa told her was true, she would delight in the new challenge of motherhood.

Her husband, however, posed an entirely different sort of challenge...

As though on cue, a knock sounded at the door.

Quickly Zelda left her hiding place, fumbling with the curtains before she regained her footing.

"Come in," she called, nervously straightening her clothes.

The door opened and, sure enough, Link himself stepped inside. He wore a long, fitted blue jacket, fastened and embroidered with gold from hem to collar. More stitching lined his sleeve cuffs, complemented by a gold belt around his waist. Black trousers and boots completed his attire—as did the gold circlet adorning his head. It was simpler attire for the King of Hyrule, but somehow it suited him perfectly.

"Good morning," Link greeted her. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

She shook her head. "Not at all."

"You look well… How are you feeling?"

Zelda shrugged. "Everything still feels very… surreal," she admitted. "But physically I do feel stronger. Lord Maddox has given me permission to go outdoors... I'd love to walk the gardens sometime today if possible."

"Of course—I could show you the grounds if you like."

Zelda nodded. "That's kind of you."

Link shook his head. "I'm happy to do it."

An awkward moment passed before Link spoke again.

"I... I did come here with one request in mind," he admitted, joining his hands behind his back. "It involves Shayne. He has grown… quite frustrated that we haven't allowed him to see you... Would you be willing to spend some time with him this morning?"

Zelda felt a rush of guilt. "Yes, of course... Could I see him now?"

Link breathed a sigh of relief. "That would be perfect; thank you. He's in his room, just across the hall..."

Together they stepped out into the corridor, and quietly Link opened the door to Shayne's room. Inside a little boy sat on the floor, halfheartedly playing with his toys while his nursemaid watched over him. He looked up as Link entered the room, and quickly the nursemaid rose to her feet.

"Shayne?" Link said gently. "Mama is here to see you."

"Mama?" the boy breathed, scrambling to his feet. "Mama!"

He rushed toward his mother with his arms outstretched, his face a look of utter urgency. Stunned by his reaction, Zelda dropped to her knees just in time to catch him. Shayne clung to her fiercely, burying his face against her neck.

"Mama," came his muffled voice. "Mama, I was scared you wouldn't wake up..."

Zelda's smile faded as a strange, unbidden lump formed in her throat.

"I know, sweetheart," she whispered, rubbing his small back. "I'm so sorry..."

The boy lifted his head and touched her cheek, searching her face with his deep blue eyes—much like his father's. "Papa said you were sick... Are you all better now?"

"Not _all_ better, but I am well enough to play with you," she replied with a smile. "What would you like to do?"

Immediately his face lit up. "Can we go see Saria? And all the fairies?"

"Mama has to stay home a while longer, sweetie," Link spoke up behind them. "Why don't you show her your garden?"

Shayne gave a small gasp and clasped Zelda's hand in both of his. "Mama, want to see my garden?" he pleaded, near bouncing with excitement.

"I would love to," she beamed.

Together they made their way down to the gardens, Link carrying Shayne to save time. Once they passed through the nearest entry, Link placed Shayne on his feet while Zelda absorbed her new surroundings. She was quickly distracted,however, when Shayne grabbed her hand and led her to his small plot of land tucked away between two courtyards. There Zelda saw a dozen flowers planted in neat rows, as well as a single column of flowerless plants she assumed were vegetables.

"My goodness, Shayne, look how pretty they are..." Zelda praised, kneeling before the flowers. Shayne beamed and knelt down beside her, pointing out the flower names he could remember.

"These ones are vegetables," said proudly, fumbling over his pronunciation. "And I give them water with this." Shayne grabbed a small blue watering can to show her. "See, Mama?" Carefully he tipped the can, his face drawn with concentration. "But they can't have too much or they get sick."

"Oh, yes, I see…"

"I have to pull the weeds too," he added, setting the can down to tug on a particular stalk.

"Such a good caretaker you are..."

Zelda glanced up at Link, catching the distracted look on his face before he returned her smile.

"Shayne," he said, laying a hand on the boy's head. "Why don't we take Mama for a walk around the gardens? You can be the leader."

The boy whirled around to face his father. "Can we go see Epona and Clover?"

"We can, but only to look, all right?"

The boy cheered and pulled his mother back toward the main path. "Come on, Mama!"

Zelda beamed and held his hand a while but eventually urged him to go on ahead. Shayne did so cheerfully, hopping around cracks in the stone pathway while his parents followed a short distance behind.

"Clover," Zelda murmured. "My horse..."

Link turned to meet her gaze. "You remember?"

"Well, I remember a sandy little colt."

"She's a beautiful horse," Link assured her. "Gentle too… Shayne should learn to ride on her, once he's old enough.*

"I should like to ride her myself... once Maddox permits it."

Link gave no response, and Zelda wondered if he wanted to avoid riding, considering the cause of her amnesia.

"He's a little bundle of energy, isn't he?" she said, watching as Shayne tried to catch a butterfly in his hands.

Link looked toward his son with a sad smile. "Yes, he is. It's so good to see him acting like himself again."

Zelda's smile faded. "I'm sorry I caused him such distress. And you as well... It must have been so difficult for you, trying to explain what happened..."

"It was... a challenge, yes," Link murmured. "He's quite intuitive... much like his mother."

Zelda felt her face warm. "I hope that's true. I could use a great deal of intuition these days."

"You seem to be handling the situation very well so far."

Zelda shook her head. "I'm not sure it's completely sunk in yet. I worry about how well I can adapt—not just as a queen, but as his mother… and as your wife..."

She trailed off when Link placed a hand on her arm, drawing them both to a halt.

"My Lady," he said gently, "Please don't worry about me. I realize that I am a stranger to you now, and I expect nothing from you—nothing for my benefit. All I ask is that you be a mother to Shayne."

"Oh, of course," Zelda assured him. "He's a wonderful boy. I couldn't bear to upset him, much less deny him."

Link smiled, obviously relieved. "Thank you."

The two resumed their walk, entering what Zelda felt was another awkward silence.

"Forgive me," she murmured. "I hope it doesn't seem like I'm jumping to conclusions about you. You've given me no reason to worry about such things, but I know so little about my life, or even myself."

Link nodded, his eyes fixed on the pathway before them. "You feel you must protect yourself."

She sighed quietly. "I mean no offense by it."

"None taken, but I assure you there's no need. I want only what's best for you… even if that means distancing myself from you," he added softly.

"There's no need for that," Zelda assured him, laying a hand on his arm. "It's true that I need time, but I very much want to learn more about you and our past."

Link glanced toward the ground as they walked, and for a brief moment Zelda thought he looked as vulnerable as she felt.

"If you like," he said slowly, his blue eyes meeting hers. "We could meet in private tonight... perhaps in the drawing room? I could answer whatever questions you have."

Zelda smiled and gave him a small nod. "I would like that."

Link looked as though he wanted to say more, but Shayne drew their attention when he leaned over a fountain's pool, trying to touch a frog on a lilypad. Quickly Link rushed to his side, pulling him away from the water and scooping up the frog for Shayne to see. Zelda watched them with a smile, allowing her uncertainties to fade with a gentle wave of hope.

* * *

xXx

* * *

Dinner that evening was a pleasant affair. For the first time since before Zelda's accident, she, Link, Shayne, and Impa gathered together for supper in their private dining room. Thrilled by this return to family tradition, Shayne spent the entire meal babbling, giggling, and playing with his food—much to Zelda's amusement. Even Impa cracked an extra smile.

Yet despite Shayne's goofiness, and despite the familiar, wonderful sound of Zelda's laughter, Link could not ignore a gnawing sense of emptiness.

He could not dismiss the weight of their awkward pauses, their polite smiles and diverted gazes... For him, everything felt superficial, even artificial.

Again and again he berated himself for harboring such ungrateful thoughts, trying to focus on his son's happiness, on his wife's warm personality—on all the good things he hadn't lost.

His negative feelings continued to plague him throughout the evening, however, especially when he and Zelda headed into Shayne's room for his bedtime story.

"Mama, tell me 'bout the monster and the princess in the castle," Shayne pleaded, bouncing against his pillow.

Zelda hesitated and glanced toward Link, obviously confused.

"Mama's too tired for that, sweetie," Link spoke up, taking Shayne's hand. "Can I tell that story instead?"

Disappointed, Shayne dropped his gaze, fingering the snout of his plush Deku Scrub toy. "But I want Mama to do it..."

Again Zelda met Link's gaze, giving him an apologetic look.

"How about Mama reads one of your books instead?" Link suggested, stroking his thumb over Shayne's little fingers.

The boy watched his father's hand a moment, then lifted his head with a shrug. "Okay."

Zelda cast Link a quick, grateful smile, which he returned as Shayne cheerfully selected a book for his mother to read.

But his smile faded as quickly as it came. Knowing Zelda could not remember one of Shayne's favorite stories—and one of the most important events she and Link had ever experienced—wounded him in ways she could never truly understand.

 _That isn't fair,_ he reminded himself, remembering Impa's advice earlier that morning. _Give her a chance. Talk to her. She might even remember._

Once Shayne had fallen asleep to his mother's soothing voice, Link blew out the bedside lantern and followed Zelda out of the room, closing the door behind them.

"Oh, I meant to tell you," he said quietly. "I had my belongings moved into that spare room earlier today," Link gestured to a door down the hall. "If and when I ever move back into your chamber is entirely your decision."

Zelda was stunned. "But I should take the spare room; this chamber is your home—"

Link shook his head. "Maddox said the familiarity might help you regain your memories. The other room will serve me just fine; please don't trouble yourself over it."

"If you insist..." Nervously Zelda rubbed her arm, glancing toward the floor as the dreaded awkwardness crept back into their exchange.

"Would you... Are you still willing to talk for a while this evening?" she asked.

"Of course," Link replied. "As long as you like."

"I don't want to keep you up too late…"

Link waved a dismissive hand. "I'll be up anyway, and I'd much rather spend the time talking with you." He gestured to her chamber door. "Shall we?"

Zelda face softened with a shy smile—one Link hadn't seen in years.

"Please," she said with a nod.


	5. Recollections

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* * *

— RECOLLECTIONS —

* * *

Together Link and Zelda entered the drawing room and moved toward the welcoming fireplace. Bright flames danced in its hearth, casting a warm ambiance throughout the otherwise shadowy chamber.

Slowly Zelda sank onto the sofa, trying not to imagine what the surrounding walls might have witnessed over the past six years. Link moved past her to uncap the wine bottle, and Zelda was shaken from her thoughts when he offered her a glass.

"To soothe the nerves," he said, noticing her uncertainty.

"Or dull my wits," she murmured, eyeing the liquid with distaste.

Link did not pull away, however, and Zelda glanced up to see him arch a brow.

"If that were true I wouldn't have offered it," he said quietly. "I would never compromise you, my Lady."

Zelda's face heated as she took the glass, mumbling her thanks while Link turned to pour himself a glass.

"You once frowned upon it," he told her over his shoulder. "Drinking, I mean. You participated only for the sake of courtesy, and no more that a sip or two at that."

Zelda fingered her glass, feeling a bit unsettled.

"And when did that change?"

Link capped the bottle and turned to her, his face unreadable.

"It was a gradual change," he said gently. "And it wasn't about the wine. That was just a symptom."

Zelda furrowed her brow. "A symptom of what?"

Link sighed and looked toward the fire, as though searching for the right words. "You cared a great deal about… living up to others' expectations. You were terrified of making even the smallest mistake."

Zelda frowned. "That's not right," she said, setting her glass aside. "I remember myself as a tomboy, a rebel—someone always off seeking adventure, worrying the staff and disappointing my father..."

Link smiled as he settled into the chair across from her. "And you were," he assured her, "until you turned thirteen."

Again Zelda furrowed her brow, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Your subjects, not to mention our allies, expected a great deal from you. Once you realized your importance—and that of your birthright—you ceased to be that spirited little princess and became the poised, captivating heir of Hyrule."

Zelda looked away, unsure she liked what she heard.

"It wasn't a forced transformation," Link added. "You're a natural born leader, and you found happiness in serving our people."

Zelda scoffed. "Yet I became dull and uptight like every typical noble?"

"You have _never_ been dull. And I didn't say you were uptight. You became very… cautious. Disciplined. Self-denying to a fault. You lived only to please your subjects and serve our people, no matter what unhappiness it brought you."

Zelda met his gaze, catching the sorrow in his tone.

"Are you referring to my arranged marriage?"

Link gave a solemn nod. "For three years he strung you along, pretending to be someone he wasn't. And his family held you to impossible standards."

"So my father shackled me to a life of misery."

"Ashton deceived your father, just as he deceived you," Link replied. "The entire public was fooled. It wasn't until your extended visit to Vandelle Castle that Ashton revealed his true nature—as did the rest of his family.

"By that point your wedding was only months away. The entire purpose of your marriage was to strengthen our fragile alliance with Vandelius, and you feared severing that agreement would result in war. You were determined to go through with it—to protect our people, even if it meant sacrificing your happiness."

Idly Zelda smoothed a wrinkle in her gown, pondering his words. "...And when do you come in?"

Her eyes met his, but Link lowered his gaze, fingering his glass as he spoke.

"We had a rather strained friendship at the time. I had witnessed a more… unsettling side of Ashton, but you didn't believe me. We had a terrible argument… and then the Tar Alemian War happened. I was called away on military duty, and your father sent you to stay in Vandelle Castle. It all happened so quickly; we never had a chance to make amends."

Zelda lowered her gaze. "And there I learned who Ashton really was."

"Yes. A lot had changed by the time we spoke again."

"Did we… make amends?" she asked him softly.

Link nodded slowly, breathing a quiet sigh. "We rekindled our friendship… and started meeting in secret. They were innocent meetings—just talking, really. We both had our own troubles, and we confided in each other. Our friendship did evolve into something more like courtship, but we never did anything scandalous."

"So our relationship caused me to back out of the engagement?"

Link gave a quiet, almost bitter laugh. "No, it has never been that simple for us," he told her. "Our relationship changed nothing—you made that clear from the start. Din knows I tried to talk you out of it, but you refused to jeopardize the peace, especially for your own sake."

Zelda considered this as Link paused to sip his wine. "Then… how did the engagement fall apart?"

Link lowered his glass, studying the liquid a moment. "I… convinced you to speak with your father. To tell him the truth about Ashton."

Zelda suppressed another dubious scoff. "And I bothered to try?"

"You were certain he would dismiss it, but I knew better. Your father loved you; he just didn't know how to express it."

Zelda shook her head. "I find that difficult to believe. My father blamed me for my mother's death—why would he do me any favors?"

Link gave her a sorrowful look. "That may have been true when you were very young, but at some point Lord Nohansen realized that his grudge was an insult not only to you, but to your mother as well. It was a slow, subtle change, but he grew to love you very much, and he cared a great deal about your happiness."

Zelda lowered her gaze, feeling a tug of regret. _I wish I could remember him that way._

"Once your father knew the truth about Ashton," Link added, "he made immediate arrangements to sever the engagement. The Council tried to sway him, but he protected you as a father should."

"But it did result in war," Zelda murmured.

"That was Elithor's decision—and it was inevitable. Ashton lacked the character needed to inherit your father's throne. He would have failed his Rite of Kingship, and he would have rejected his role as Prince Consort. Sooner or later, his ego would have forced our kingdoms into conflict."

Zelda averted her gaze, listening to the soft crackling of the fireplace. _Was I really so blind?_

"I couldn't see that myself?" she asked him quietly.

"Of course you did. But you hoped to "fix" him before that day came—make a better man of him. And you were unwilling to walk away without trying."

"Then how did you convince me to tell my father the truth?"

"I told you I would do it myself, which would have jeopardized my career, possibly even my life, depending on how Ashton reacted."

Zelda stiffened, considering his words with growing skepticism. "That sounds like an ultimatum…"

 _A threat, even…_

Her eyes met his, demanding an explanation. Link stared back, sad and unfazed.

"It wasn't like that," he said. "I didn't threaten you, and I didn't reveal your secrets. I vowed to tell your father what I had witnessed, nothing more. It was my right to do that much, and that alone would have jeopardized me. So I gave you a choice: to deny my claim and proceed with the wedding, or to prevent my involvement altogether. You still held the power; my word would never take precedence over yours."

Zelda glanced down toward her hands, feeling a tug of guilt. "...I see."

"You were unwilling to protect yourself," Link added, "so I made it about me too. Saving me meant saving yourself."

Again he paused to sip his glass, looking almost flustered by the memory.

"Honestly, I didn't know what you would do," he admitted. "You had already ended our courtship, and I wasn't sure you cared enough to spare me. All I knew was that, even if you chose to deny me… it would have been less painful than letting you walk away without trying to save you. I chose to trust you… and you chose to protect me."

He fell silent a moment, staring down into his glass.

"I didn't do it to 'win your heart' or any nonsense like that," he said quietly, lifting his eyes to Zelda's. "By that point I was convinced we would never be together. Too many variables stood between us—variables you weren't willing to fight. Despite everything, I still loved you— _fiercely_ loved you."

His blue eyes bore into hers, almost violet in the firelight. An unbidden lump formed in Zelda's throat, but she forced it back down.

"Then… we continued our courtship?" she asked him softly.

Link settled back in his chair, as though willing himself to relax.

"Yes. You pursued me for a change… said you were willing to fight for me, for us to be together. I didn't believe it would end well for us, but…" he trailed off with a light shrug. "I couldn't refuse you."

Again Zelda swallowed, unsure how to respond.

"And then the… Retribution War started," she murmured, remembering what Impa had told her.

Link nodded, his eyes going distant. "I went away on duty, and you served as a military healer. We were stationed in different camps, and for the next five years our relationship existed primarily in anonymous letters. We saw each other in person several times each year, but rarely alone."

"Why were we so secretive?" Zelda asked with a frown. "I said I would fight for you; didn't I?"

"You needed time to figure that out, and you blamed yourself for the war. It was hardly the time to make a spectacle of ourselves."

Zelda lowered her gaze. "...No, I suppose not."

"I never held it against you. You had been freed from your betrothal, but you were still shackled to your crown, conditioned to please and serve. I just wanted to be a part of your life, in the closest way I could be."

Zelda gave him a sad smile, aware of a strong tingling sensation in her belly. "But I did eventually fight for you… didn't I?"

Link returned her smile. "You did, but not before you unearthed that rebellious girl you had buried so long ago. It started when you volunteered to be a military healer—that's unheard of among noblewomen, much less royalty, but you cared more about aiding our soldiers than pleasing the court."

Relief swept over Zelda. _At least I found_ some _backbone._

"Yet I was ashamed of you?"

"Not so much me than your love for me. You felt it selfish to love me, considering the political repercussions. You also feared I would not be happy with you in the long run. It was a rather… tumultuous time for us. We often urged each other to walk away, but they were empty words, spoken through guilt or insecurity. In fact our relationship grew stronger during the war. By the end… it became almost unbearable to be parted from you."

Zelda did not miss the ache in his tone.

"...How did we finally break that pattern?" she asked him softly. "Did you give me another push?"

Link caught her smile and returned it, but it did not reach his eyes.

"Not exactly," he said. "Not intentionally, at least."

Zelda raised her brow. "Oh? What do you mean by that?"

He hesitated, avoiding her gaze as he stroked the spine of his glass.

"...That should wait for another evening, I think," he finally said.

"Oh, but you have me so intrigued…"

"Forgive me," he said gently, giving her an apologetic look. "Some things are still… difficult to talk about."

Startled, Zelda inwardly berated herself. "Of course, I'm sorry—I'm being terribly insensitive. Do you… Do you wish to stop for tonight?"

"Not unless you want me to. I just thought… maybe we should change the subject. Discuss something less… complicated."

"Of course," Zelda said with a nervous laugh. "Perhaps we should start at the beginning. Impa said we were close as children, but I still don't know how we met."

"Well… to give a terribly simplified explanation," Link replied, a smile tugging at his lips, "I sneaked into the castle gardens one day and found you there. Your father had an important meeting, and I caught you spying on him through a window."

Zelda gave a more genuine laugh. "You must have been quite the sneak to find me like that. Or should I be concerned about the Royal Guard?"

Link's smile widened, and Zelda caught a mysterious gleam in his eye.

"There may have been some… divine intervention," he teased.

Again she laughed, relieved to feel their previous tension fade. "But where did you come from? Did you live Castletown?"

"Oh no, I traveled much farther to see you. I grew up in the forest along the southeast border."

"The southeast border?" Zelda regarded him with shock. "But there are no settlements there… The Lost Woods is dangerous… forbidden…"

Link gave her a curious look. "You don't remember what lies in that forest?"

"I know a twisted labyrinth exists there, protecting the forest and its secrets. Some say evil beings lurk there, hiding in constant shadow... It sounds like a frightening place."

Link studied her a moment, then breathed a quiet sigh.

"The royal family knows many of Hyrule's oldest secrets," he told her, "most of which you were supposed to learn once you passed your Rite of Queenship. You were led to believe those things about the forest so you would not pursue the truth prematurely.

"The Lost Woods is a dangerous place—that much is true. But it is equally beautiful, and it certainly isn't evil. Mysterious, perhaps, but the labyrinth exists to protect sacred places."

"Fascinating," Zelda whispered. "Could you… show me? Where you lived, I mean."

"Of course. You and I have been there countless times over the years. Shayne could come as well. He's been asking to go."

"Shayne has been there?"

"Several times. I have family there, more or less."

Zelda gaped at him. "You have family living _in_ the Lost Woods?"

"Just beyond it. My Lady, I know this all must seem very strange to you, but I can explain everything better once we're there."

Zelda lowered her gaze, trying to wrap her mind around his claims. Had it come from anyone else, she would have thought him a liar.

"But it's such a long journey to the forest… I don't suppose Maddox would permit me to go anytime soon."

"We would not travel by traditional means."

"You mean… we would use magic?"

Link nodded. "But before we go anywhere I need Maddox to permit your leaving the castle grounds."

Zelda furrowed her brow. "He knows about the forest too?"

"No. As far as anyone besides Impa is concerned, you and I plan to visit friends in Castletown."

"Impa will accompany us as well?"

"She will await our return, and cover for us if need be. I will make the arrangements with her, and, if Maddox approves, we can leave tomorrow morning after breakfast… if you like."

"The sooner the better," Zelda replied, letting her eagerness show.

"We have time," Link reminded her. "I don't want you to push yourself."

"I won't. I'm excited, but I'm not foolish."

Link gave her a crooked smile, but it faded as an awkward silence seeped back into the room.

"Well, it's getting late. You'll need your rest if Maddox allows you to travel."

"True," Zelda nodded. "You as well, regardless of what Maddox says."

Link nodded and rose to his feet, pausing to drink the last of his wine—until Zelda stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Wait." Quickly she moved to retrieve her own glass—untouched since Link handed it to her.

"To friendship," she said, toasting in Link's direction, "...and happier days to come."

Link hesitated, then warmly returned the gesture before they drank together. Zelda braced herself for the taste, surprised when the rich, sweet wine danced across her tongue and warmed her throat. Her reaction must have shown, for Link gave a soft laugh.

"Good?" he asked.

"I didn't expect it to be so… pleasant." Zelda took another sip, smiling as it warmed her insides.

"It's a Gerudo wine," he told her, setting his empty glass on the tray. "A mild one… good for a nightcap."

Zelda studied her glass a moment, wondering how many nights she and Link had shared a nightcap.

"Thank you," she said, setting her glass on the tray beside his, "...for talking with me."

"No need to thank me, my Lady."

"Please, you don't have to be so polite," she insisted. "I am Zelda to you, aren't I?"

Link gave her a sad smile. "So you are."

Then gently he took her hand, bending down to press a chaste kiss to her knuckles. Zelda felt her pulse flutter beneath his touch, and again when his eyes met hers.

"Goodnight, Zelda," he said softly.

"Goodnight, Link… Until tomorrow."

He nodded before he turned away and soundlessly left the chamber. Zelda watched the door close behind him, releasing a breath she had unwittingly held.


	6. The Forest

AN: So sorry about the long wait! Aside from life getting in the way, I had writer's block for a while and tried to work on editing Fortitude instead. But this is a pretty long chapter, so hopefully that'll make up for the long wait.

Thank you sooo much for the wonderful reviews—I'm so glad people are liking this story so far! :D I'll try not to take so long with the next chapter. D:

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* * *

— THE FOREST —

* * *

The royal family departed later the following morning—with Maddox's blessing. After so many days of silence and secrecy, the castle's inhabitants were relieved to see their queen up and about. Smiles followed the happy trio as they headed toward the castle entrance chamber, and some chuckled at the young prince's excitement. The spacious halls echoed with his chatter as he squirmed in his father's arms, asking again and again where they were going.

A carriage stood waiting for them outside, which they quickly boarded and set off for Castletown.

"Are we gonna see Rosie?" Shayne asked his father, bouncing up and down on his seat.

"No, not Rosie," Link answered, glancing out the window as they left the castle grounds. "Guess again."

"Are we gonna see Connor?"

Link opened his mouth to answer, then turned to give Shayne a dry look. The boy gave him a bright, innocent smile before he burst into giggles.

"What's so funny?" Zelda asked with a smile.

"Connor is Rosie's brother," Link explained. "Shayne knows they live in the same house," he added, tickling the boy gently.

"Are we gonna see Gracie?" Shayne asked between giggles, tugging on his father's sleeve. "Are we gonna see Henri? Auntie Siena?"

Link tickled him again, causing Shayne to shriek and squirm down onto the floor.

"Same family?" Zelda asked with amusement.

Link gave her a nod and leaned down to retrieve Shayne off the floor.

"Much too silly," he muttered with a smile, holding the still giggling boy on his lap.

Outside the bustling market of Castletown Square came into view, and Shayne watched the townspeople hurry toward the carriage to greet the royal family.

"Wave back to the people, Shayne," Link said gently, demonstrating with a wave of his own. "Look how happy they are to see you."

Zelda followed Link's example, and Shayne watched his parents before he slowly lifted his hand, moving his fingers in a timid wave. The crowd responded with enthusiasm, calling his name as more gathered to see the young prince. A hesitant smile tugged at his innocent face, growing brighter as his wave grew more animated.

"There you go," Link said with approval, stroking the back of Shayne's head. "Just like that."

The boy lifted his other hand, waving both at once—much to the delight of his audience.

"He's a little shy," Link explained, glancing toward Zelda. "He just needs some encouragement now and then."

Zelda nodded with a smile. "Of course."

She turned back to the window, letting her mind wander. As much as she enjoyed seeing her people's shining faces, the sight of them caused her own insecurities to surface. Link and Impa had informed her that the public knew nothing about her amnesia—not even the royal court—and that the High Council had postponed any final decisions, in case her memories did return. If nothing happened within a fortnight, they would revisit the situation—or the _delicate matter_ , as they called it.

"Are you all right?"

Zelda turned to see Link studying her with concern.

"You looked so far away," he added.

"Just thinking," she said with a shrug.

"About?"

"My deadline," she murmured, averting her gaze.

"Don't think of it like that," he soothed. "I know the Council made it sound rather ominous, but you don't need to worry. Whatever problems come, I'll handle them."

"That doesn't make me feel much better," she said gently. "I don't want to be more of a burden than I already am."

"You're not a burden," he said again. "Please don't worry. I can handle it."

Zelda studied him a moment, unable to draw much comfort in his words.

"Temple!" Shayne shrieked.

Startled, Zelda watched him spin around to look up at his father and point out the window.

"Are we gonna see Saria?" he breathed.

"That's right, Shayne; we are," Link replied with equal enthusiasm.

The boy clapped his hands and squealed with delight, causing both of his parents to laugh.

As the carriage slowed to a halt, Zelda moved to gaze up at the Temple of Time, admiring its dark, familiar spires with a wave of reverence. She had sometimes visited the Temple as a child, to participate in various religious ceremonies. Link had said the Temple also served as an important portal, allowing them to quickly reach Castletown from anywhere in Hyrule—as long as they used the Ocarina of Time, a precious heirloom of the royal family. This was how they had visited each other over the years, and how they would reach the forest that day.

One of the Temple's massive doors had been propped open, and Impa stood in the entranceway, waiting for them with her arms crossed.

"Impa!" Shayne cried as he climbed out of the carriage. "Are you coming to see Saria too?"

The woman approached him and knelt down to place her hands on his small shoulders.

"Not this time," she said. "I'm here to make sure no one comes looking for you—and that you come home in time for supper."

"Oh," Shayne said, slightly disappointed.

Impa smiled and rose to address his parents. "Ready?"

They nodded, and Zelda took Shayne's hand as they followed Impa inside.

Zelda's footsteps slowed as they entered the Temple, and she paused to observe her surroundings—the familiar white columns, the smooth black and white tiles, the red carpet leading back to the Altar of Time… All of it remained just as she remembered. Somehow this made her feel calm.

Impa closed the doors behind them, and Zelda watched as Link produced a pale blue ocarina from inside his jacket—the Ocarina of Time. This inspired another excited cheer from Shayne.

"The ocreena!" he exclaimed, hopping up and down.

Link smiled at him, then looked at Zelda.

"You'll have to go first," he said. "Remember, all you have to do is hold on to me."

Zelda nodded and stepped closer, blushing as she tentatively wrapped her arms around his waist. Link then circled his arm around her head and brought the instrument to his lips. A spirited tune sounded by her ear, echoing about the vast chamber until a green light consumed them both. A sharp, swooping sensation came over her, and she was flying, flying so fast she thought she would be torn apart…

Then there was stillness and quiet, broken only by birdsongs and the kiss of a cool breeze. Zelda opened her eyes and stepped away from Link, stunned to find herself in a beautiful forest. A small, overgrown meadow surrounded them, and above the dense treetops rustled in the breeze, making the leaves shimmer and dance in the sunlight.

"Amazing," she breathed. "I knew the Ocarina was special, but this… to teleport with such ease… And you said there are other places we can go?"

Link nodded. "There are four other portals—in the Death Mountain Crater, at Lake Hylia, at the Desert Colossus, and in Kakariko Graveyard."

"Incredible… and a different song takes you to each portal? Oh, could you teach me these melodies?"

Link searched her face a moment, but despite his gentle smile Zelda thought he looked very sad.

"Of course," he said softly.

Zelda smiled and averted her gaze, eager for a distraction. It was then that she noticed an ancient structure standing several meters away. Vines, moss, and the wear of time had reduced the entranceway to to ruins, but the rest lay hidden amidst the trees, possibly intact.

"What is this place?" she asked.

"The Sacred Forest Meadow. And that is the Forest Temple," he added, gesturing to the ruins. "The Kokiri sometimes come here to pray—Saria comes almost every day."

"I see," Zelda murmured, looking up at the Temple. "Can we go inside?"

"Another time, perhaps. The interior is pretty dark in certain areas, and Shayne would be frightened."

"Is it… haunted?"

Link gave her a rather secretive smile, then glanced up toward the Temple. "It was, once… Not anymore."

Zelda swallowed, both unnerved and intrigued by his mysterious reply.

"I'm going back for Shayne," he then said, fingering the Ocarina. "Stay in this meadow, and you'll be safe. I'll be right back."

Zelda nodded, and Link played another softer melody before he vanished in a haze of golden light.

Not even two minutes passed before he reappeared with Shayne tightly clasped in his arms. The boy lifted his head from Link's shoulder, then broke into a bright, beaming smile.

"Temple!" he shouted, reacting much like he had to the Temple of Time. He tried to squirm out of Link's arms, but his father held him tight.

"No, Shayne, I need to carry you to the village, remember? Hold onto me like a good boy."

Shayne paused and slumped his shoulders, then obediently wound his arms around Link's neck.

"Hold onto my arm," Link instructed Zelda in a quiet voice. "Once we leave this meadow, you will be vulnerable to the forest's enchantment. You could get lost if we're separated even for a moment."

Zelda blinked, then cast a nervous glance toward the distant trees.

"I would find you in minutes," Link assured her. "And you wouldn't be harmed, but I'd rather spare you that experience."

"I… understand," she said, slipping her hand around his arm.

He led her down a narrow stairway and into a labyrinth of tall stone walls nearly covered in vines. The sight intimidated Zelda, but Link navigated through it as though he'd done so countless times before. Once they had cleared the maze, they soon left behind all signs of civilization, and Link led them on a meandering path through the dense wood, reviewing Zelda's brief lesson on Kokiri culture.

She had been fascinated to learn that every Kokiri was born with a companion fairy, and that they never aged beyond childhood despite their long lives. Their magical existence was made possible by the forest guardian, a giant tree called the Great Deku Tree, who was like a father to them.

The Kokiri were forbidden to venture beyond the Lost Woods, as they could not survive outside the forest. They led very humble lives, oblivious to the world's troubles beyond the Woods, and they never felt a desire to leave. Even material possessions were strongly discouraged. For that reason, Zelda and Link had worn simple traveling clothes without any gold stitching or decorative embroidery. Their circlets had been left in the carriage, along with Zelda's jewels—save the three rings on her fingers: her Queen's Ring, her wedding ring, and her engagement ring.

" _No need to remove those,"_ Link had told her. _"You never did before."_

Zelda could not deny they made her a little uncomfortable, as she preferred to wear them only once she had resumed her queenship and embraced her marriage. But Impa had instructed her to wear them everyday, to keep up appearances, and Zelda knew they were important to Link. She had no desire to hurt him for the sake of her own comfort.

.

Eventually the three of them reached a massive clearing, where they paused at the edge of a small cliff. Below Zelda saw what she could only assume was Kokiri Village. About two dozen houses had been built there, humble and small, each with its own garden. A winding path connected all the homes, stopping before what looked like a hill covered in dense trees. A small waterfall flowed not too far from it, creating a convenient pool of water for the villagers.

"Welcome to Kokiri Village," Link said to Zelda, "the place I once called home."

Zelda gazed down at the village, still struggling to believe its existence—and that Link had grown up there. She opened her mouth to ask a question, then quickly closed it, remembering not to voice her surprise in front of Shayne.

 _Truly, this is the epitome of humble origins_ …

Several Kokiri could be seen as they approached the village, all of them dressed in green clothes and accompanied by small glowing fairies, but a girl with green hair was the first to notice them.

 _That must be Saria,_ Zelda observed, remembering Link's description from earlier that morning.

"Link!" she cried, breaking into a run. "Zelda! Shayne!"

"Saria!" Shayne cried as Link lowered him onto his feet. Quickly he ran toward Saria, who dropped to her knees to catch him in a warm hug. Her blue eyes glanced over his shoulder, however, looking toward his parents. Zelda noticed she wore a look of deep concern—one too mature for her childlike face.

"Auntie Saria, I have a garden!" Shayne told her, pulling out of her embrace. "I grew flowers!"

"You did?" she said, leaning back with a gasp. Her fairy circled their heads, as though to express her own excitement.

"And vegetables too!"

Saria giggled at his fumbled pronunciation. "That's wonderful! You'll have to show me a pictograph."

"Oh, yeah," he murmured, disappointed that he hadn't thought of it. "I bring one next time."

Saria nodded, giving him another smile, but again her eyes glanced toward Link. Suddenly Zelda understood _._

 _She hasn't seen him since before my accident…_

"Shayne," Zelda called to him. "Why don't we go say hello to the others?"

He glanced toward the village, where some Kokiri had paused to watch them, unsure whether they should interrupt the reunion. Then he looked back to his mother with uncertainty.

"Come on," Zelda encouraged him, offering her hand. "Just for a minute. We don't want to be rude, do we?"

Saria caught her eye, giving her a grateful look, and Zelda smiled softly as she led Shayne away. Silently he followed behind her, clearly reluctant as he glanced back toward his father. "What about Papa?"

"He'll come, don't worry," Zelda soothed, gently tugging him along.

But she, too, threw a glance over her shoulder, watching as Link knelt before the girl who raised him. Saria took his face in her hands, speaking tearful words before she embraced him fiercely. Zelda tore her eyes away, both saddened and unnerved to be the cause of their sorrow.

The villagers hurried to greet their two visitors—even their fairies bobbed excitedly about their heads. A few girls observed Zelda's clothes while others moved to hug Shayne or ruffle his hair. Zelda felt someone tug at her sleeve and turned to see a blond Kokiri looking up at her.

"May I see your rings?" she asked her politely.

Cautiously Zelda offered her hands, letting the girl observe the three jewels.

"So pretty," the girl said, tracing the gems with a mournful sigh.

"Careful, Fado," another girl said, "don't let the Great Deku Tree see you!"

"I'm just looking," she defended, pulling away with a blush.

Zelda smiled and turned to see a Kokiri boy crouch before Shayne. A mess of red hair poked out from beneath his green cap, hiding his eyes from view.

"You don't look any taller," he observed, lifting his hand to measure the top of his head against Shayne's.

"Hey, I think he's gotten shorter!" another boy added—one nearly identical to the first, Zelda noticed.

"I have _not_ ," Shayne said indignantly, causing the others to laugh.

"I told you to quit coming back here."

An unfriendly voice rose above the others, and Zelda looked up, unsure who it came from. The group parted to reveal another Kokiri boy with red hair, though he wore his combed back into his cap, revealing his cold blue eyes and freckled face. He crossed his arms and frowned at Zelda, as though to intimidate. Before she could respond, however, Saria reappeared at her side—as did Link.

"Mido, what did the Great Deku Tree tell you about being rude to Link and his family?"

Flustered, the boy blushed and turned away. "They don't belong here," he muttered.

The others took little notice of him, as they moved to greet Link with hugs and questions. Mido lingered another moment but then shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away, kicking a rock as he did.

Once they had finished catching up with the villagers, Zelda, Link, Saria, and Shayne headed toward the Great Deku Tree's meadow to pay their respects. Saria led them from one side of the village to the other, chattering about the Kokiri and asking questions about Shayne. Zelda looked around as she listened, observing the Kokiri as they returned to their daily activities. Some went to work in their gardens or hanging their laundry, but a few chose to relax, lying on their backs to watch clouds drift across the sky.

 _They don't have much,_ Zelda thought to herself, _but they seem happy… and peaceful._

Eventually they stopped before a narrow passageway between two high cliffs, where Saria plopped down onto the grass.

"You three go on," she told them. "I'll wait for you here."

Their walk through the grassy passageway was brief, and soon they came upon another large meadow—where Zelda stopped dead in her tracks.

Link had told her the forest guardian was a "giant" tree, but Zelda found herself stunned by its sheer enormity. Its trunk stretched far wider than the houses back in the village, and it rose higher than any other tree in the forest. Its thick branches, full of deep green leaves, formed a massive canopy so dense she could not see the sky through it's branches.

"Link, Zelda, and little Shayne," the Tree addressed them in a deep, rumbling voice. "It is truly a pleasure to see you again. And it warms my heart to see you awake and well, Zelda."

His tone was surprisingly kind and grandfatherly, and it bore a soothing, almost musical sound.

"Thank you," Zelda replied, lowering Shayne onto his feet so Link could take his hand. "I am honored to meet you… again, I should add."

The Deku Tree gave what sounded like a mournful murmur. "Your incident is tragic indeed. But I have faith you will regain what you have lost, if you open yourself to the possibilities available to you."

Zelda wondered if he always spoke in riddles or if he had chosen words that Shayne would not understand. Either way, his ambiguity was perceptive, as though he sensed a reluctance in her—one she kept well buried, sometimes even from herself.

Fortunately, Link didn't seem to notice. He stood a few steps away with Shayne, watching with a calm, guarded expression. Shayne, however, openly gaped at the forest guardian, still in awe despite having seen the Deku Tree before.

"Thank you," Zelda said again. "I… I appreciate your encouragement."

The Deku Tree shifted his branches in reply, a gesture that seemed akin to a nod.

Link stepped forward then, and he and Zelda exchanged more casual conversation with the guardian, informing him that they planned to depart in the late afternoon. Then, after saying their goodbyes—save Shayne, who could only manage a wave—they headed back toward the village.

Once they had left the passageway, Saria sprang to her feet and took Zelda's hand.

"He's amazing, isn't he?" she asked with a smile.

"Yes, but how has he not been discovered?" Zelda replied. "He rises well above the other trees…"

"His branches form a huge canopy that blends with the surrounding trees," Saria explained. "From a distance it looks like trees growing on a hilltop—or so Link tells me. No one ever gets close enough for a better look."

"He does have magical protections as well," Link added.

"Yes, there is that," Saria laughed. "His magic keeps us all safe."

"I see…" Zelda felt a stir of excitement, wondering what other fascinating secrets her kingdom held in store for her.

.

They headed back toward Saria's house, where she had invited them to help her prepare a special picnic lunch. Like all Kokiri homes, the house's interior was a single room furnished with only the barest of necessities—a bed, a wood stove, a wash basin, a dining table, and minimal shelving—mostly to hold cooking supplies, clothes, and bedding.

Link and Zelda sat at the small table, and Saria quickly put them to work with chopping mushrooms and crushing herbs. Shayne sat on the floor off to the side, drawing pictures with paper and chalk while Saria bustled about her stove, telling Zelda about Link's favorite meals as a child. The Kokiri kept to a vegan diet, Zelda realized, as the Kokiri were forbidden to hunt, and they had no access to farm animals.

"I can't measure up to your royal feasts," Saria told them, "but Link still loves my mushroom soup. You've always liked it too, Zelda."

"Me too!" Shayne cheered, raising a chalk stained hand.

"Yes, you too!" Saria exclaimed, pointing her ladle at him.

"I like the nostalgia," Link said with a nonchalant shrug, but Zelda noticed the playful look he threw Saria.

"You like the recipe, and you know it," Saria scolded him. "I've perfected it over the years, and—oh, twigs," Saria muttered, using what Zelda figured was a Kokiri oath of sorts.

"Oh, twigs!" Shayne echoed.

"What now?" Link murmured, pausing his chopping.

"I'm out of an ingredient I need. Fado must have 'borrowed' some again."

"Are they nearby?"

"Don't worry about it—I keep a secret stash in your house."

Link sighed, but Zelda gave him a curious look. "You have a house here?"

He smiled. "It's an odd treehouse of sorts, but yes, it's technically mine."

"Come with me, and I'll show you," Saria said, beckoning her to the doorway.

"I wanna come!" Shayne exclaimed, climbing to his feet.

"Sorry, Shayne—no boys allowed this time," Saria teased, gently tapping his nose. "You stay here and guard my mushrooms, okay?"

"But I wanna come…"

Zelda knelt down and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Shayne, can you draw me a picture before we come back?"

He looked up her, intrigued by this new challenge. "What kinda picture, Mama?"

"Hmm…" Zelda looked up toward the ceiling, pretending to think. "Surprise me."

Shayne seemed to consider this. "Okay, I surprise you!" he exclaimed, plopping back down onto the floor and grabbing his chalk. Zelda fondly stroked his head, catching Link's smile as she stood to leave the house.

"If you ever want to know what Link looked like when he was little," Saria told Zelda as they walked side by side, "just look at Shayne. He's practically his double."

"He's a sweet boy," Zelda murmured. "Very gentle."

"Another trait he shares with Link." She glanced up at Zelda then, wearing a curious expression. "Do you find it… strange that I raised him?"

"Strange?" Zelda echoed. "His childhood was unusual, certainly, but that hardly matters. He seems like a good man. I didn't have a traditional upbringing either."

Saria chuckled. "Impa is much more qualified to raise a Hylian child than I was."

"Nevertheless, Link turned out to be an exemplary person."

"I can't take much credit for that," Saria murmured. "He left the forest for good when he was only twelve years old, and he traveled the world for two years. But he's bound to Hyrule," she added softly. "His travels reminded him of that."

"Is that why he enlisted in the army?" Zelda finished, remembering what Impa had told her.

"It was one of the reasons," Saria sighed. "They were his new family, in a way. And he was happy… in a way…"

"But?" Zelda coaxed.

Saria gave her a smile. "I think he should tell you the rest."

Zelda sighed but offered no argument, partly because they had slowed to a stop before what she assumed was Link's old house.

He had lived in what appeared to be a massive tree stump hollowed out into a makeshift house, complete with a balcony and accessible only by ladder.

"Link lived here all by himself?" Zelda asked, unable to hide her shock. "As a child?"

"For a short while, yes. He lived with me until he was about eight years old. He was pretty determined to build his own house… mostly because he hoped a fairy would come to him if he did," she added softly.

"And he was disappointed," Zelda murmured.

Saria breathed a quiet sigh. "I wanted to tell him the truth—that he's Hylian and not meant to have a fairy—but the Deku Tree forbade it until he was old enough. It was so hard to keep it secret… especially when Mido bullied him."

Zelda blinked, recalling the red-haired boy from earlier with a flare of annoyance.

"Why is Mido so rude to him?" she asked. "The other villagers don't seem to care that Link is different."

"Oh, Mido's always been horribly jealous of Link. He has feelings for me—which I've never returned, I'll have you know—so he's always hated how close I am to Link."

Zelda furrowed her brow. "But you raised him… That makes no sense…"

Saria grabbed a rung of the ladder and gave her a shrug. "He's a foolish boy, has been all his life. "But he's not all bad. I tell myself he's a work in progress.

"Anyway, enough about him," she added, climbing up the ladder. "Come up with me."

Zelda followed her up onto the balcony and peered through the open doorway.

The interior wasn't much different from Saria's home, as similar furnishings had been crowded into one tiny room: a bed, table, wood stove, wash basin, and one shelf. The more Zelda looked, however, the more she noticed little details here and there, little pieces of Link's personality that remained after so many years.

He had cut a large window above his bed, allowing him to gaze up at the stars each night. Clusters of papers had been nailed to the far wall, containing various maps, lists, reminders, and drawings. They seemed childish at first, but upon closer inspection Zelda could see that he had taken his work very seriously, even as a boy.

One picture portrayed someone, possibly Link himself, fighting a monster-like creature with a sword. Another page featured a drawing of a Skulltula—a very large and dangerous spider native to Hyrule—and several neat rows of tally marks.

 _Did he actually hunt Skulltulas as a child…?_

"He was as impressive as he was adorable."

Zelda turned to see Saria sitting on a small stump at the center of the room, watching her with a sad smile.

"I'm sure he was… though it is hard to believe he lived here," Zelda replied, moving to sit on Link's old bed. It had long been stripped of its bedding, but it made a suitable bench.

"Yes," Saria sighed, glancing toward the drawings. "He's come a very long way."

Zelda looked down at her hands, fingering her engagement ring as she sorted through her thoughts.

"That ring," Saria said, gesturing toward Zelda's hand. "It once belonged to Link's mother."

Zelda nodded solemnly. "Impa told me. Did you ever… meet her?"

"Not exactly. I… found her in the Lost Woods because I heard Link crying. Normally intruders are left to wander to their deaths, but the spirits told me she was important."

"What was she doing?" Zelda asked.

"I'm not sure. She was badly wounded. But she begged me to help her…"

Saria's eyes grew distant as she recalled the memory.

"She was so beautiful… but so sad and broken… I could see that her life was leaving her. She held Link out to me, begging me to take him. He was so tiny, wrapped in his blanket… She whispered his name… and then she died."

Zelda lowered her gaze with a wave of sadness, remembering that her own mother had died giving birth to her. Impa had told her about the funeral, and how the entire kingdom had grieved for their beloved young queen. Zelda had often visited her grave as a child, hoping her mother's spirit might listen in ways her living father never did.

 _Has Link visited his mother's grave in a similar way?_

"Where did you bury her?" she asked in a hushed tone.

Saria shook her head. "We didn't. She vanished in a glowing light just moments after she died. All that remained were her clothes and her ring."

Zelda stared at her, stunned. "An effect of the forest's magic?"

"Maybe, I'm not sure. I took her belongings and brought Link to the Great Deku Tree. He gave me permission to raise him as my own… and so I did," she added with a smile.

Zelda studied her a moment, unable to shake the feeling that something was missing from Saria's story—some important part of Link's past.

"If outsiders are forbidden, why did the Great Deku Tree allow him to live here?" she asked.

Saria shrugged. "He was just a baby. Maybe his innocence saved him."

Zelda searched her young face carefully, looking for for signs of secrecy.

"Maybe," she murmured, suppressing her curiosity. She had to trust that Link would give her any missing details in due time.

"How is Link handling all of this?" she asked.

Saria breathed a heavy sigh, brushing some green locks away from her face.

"Knowing what I know, it's obvious that he's in terrible pain," she said softly. "But beyond that… I have trouble understanding what he's going through. We Kokiri don't experience… romantic feelings. We can be drawn to a specific person, but our feelings are far less complicated than yours. It's one of the few truly childish things about us."

"I see," Zelda said softly.

"When I talked to him earlier today, he didn't express his true feelings. He just said he'd be all right—he _comforted_ me." Saria's petite shoulders slumped in a frustrated sigh. "He's not just protecting me… I know he hasn't accepted what's happened."

"He's still hoping that I'll regain my memories," Zelda murmured.

 _Of course,_ she thought to herself _.He's still waiting for his Zelda to wake up._

Somehow, for reasons she could not explain, the thought disappointed her.

Her discomfort must have showed, as Saria changed to a more apologetic tone.

"I'm sorry—I know this is very difficult for you too," she said. "Are you… happy with him?"

Zelda paused, considering her words carefully. "It's too soon to answer that, I think… but I'm not _un_ happy with him. He seems like an honorable man, and I do want to know him better…"

"But?" Saria asked, her voice hushed with anxiousness.

Zelda shifted, wondering if she should confide in this girl she barely knew.

"It is… difficult to embrace this life when I'm constantly being compared to another woman."

Saria furrowed her brow. "But that other woman is you…"

"She _was_ me."

"Don't you want to regain your memories?"

Again Zelda hesitated, feeling suddenly cornered in that tiny treehouse. For reasons she could not explain, the thought of regaining her memories unnerved her.

"I—I suppose I do, but I… It's difficult to sort out my feelings right now…"

Her words seemed to upset Saria, and an awkward pause filled the room. Then, in one abrupt motion, the girl left her seat and dropped to her knees at Zelda's feet.

"Please, Zelda, you _must_ remember," she begged, clasping her hand. "You must try everything that could help with your memories, please, for his sake… Promise me you will…"

Tears streamed down her face, and Zelda struggled to reassure her without resorting to lies.

"Of course I will try…" she stammered.

Relief filled Saria's face. "Oh, thank you," she breathed. "Thank you, Zelda; that's all I ask."

She collected herself then, wiping her face and slowly climbing to her feet.

"If you had any idea what you've lost," she added gently, "you would want your memories back too—more than anything."

Zelda gave a solemn nod, and another awkward pause filled the confining walls of Link's old home.

"Well, I've got what I came for, so we should probably head back," Saria murmured, slipping a small package in her pocket. "Before a certain little boy starts looking for us."

Zelda murmured her agreement, careful to hide her relief as Saria led her back outside.

.

Once they returned to Saria's house, Shayne eagerly rushed to greet his mother.

"Mama, I finished your picture!" he exclaimed, holding it up for her. "Look, it's a Deku Scrub!"

Zelda gave a dramatic gasp as she took the paper and knelt beside him.

"A Deku Scrub, how perfect!" she praised, earning a beaming smile from Shayne. "Is this your Scrub?" she added, remembering his favorite toy back at the castle.

"No, it's a real one," he answered matter-of-factly. "See, that's the hole he lives in. Scrub doesn't have a hole."

"Oh, I see…"

She thanked him for the picture and kissed his cheek before returning to her place at the table. Link gave her an amused smile, and she found herself returning it.

"Smaller, Link," Saria said, pointing to his pile of mushroom pieces. "I need them _tiny_ for the soup."

Link gave Zelda a discreet look. "Yes, ma'am," he muttered.

"Don't you sass me; you know it tastes better that way. It's for your own good."

Again Link glanced at Zelda. "It's for my own good," he repeated with pretend seriousness. Zelda couldn't help the giggle that escaped against her hand.

"It's most improper, don't you think?" she muttered to Link. "The king and queen, reduced to chopping mushrooms and grinding herbs?" She cast him a smile to show she wasn't serious.

"I won't tell if you don't," he replied with a wink.

Zelda grinned and continued grinding her herbs, feeling oddly cheerful. In truth she found the task relaxing, and she enjoyed the happy atmosphere in Saria's home—so much that she could almost forget the tension back at Link's old house.

Almost.

.

Once the soup had been cooked to Saria's satisfaction, the four of them left her house to spread their picnic near the edge of the village, where they could find some privacy. Saria had also brought sandwiches, fruit, and nuts—and some applesauce for Shayne.

They talked about Link's childhood—his accidents, his illnesses, and the many times he had worried Saria with his adventurous ways.

"...I began to panic, wondering if he had gone beyond the Lost Woods—off to Hyrule, where I couldn't reach him," Saria told Zelda, recounting the first time Link went missing for an entire day. "Finally I came back to the village to see the Deku Tree, and I found Link sleeping in his bed at my house." Saria sighed and shook of her head. "It was that day I realized he could take care of himself," she murmured, her face softening when she met Link's gaze. "I didn't have to worry so much, but… it made me sad. He had grown up, as far as we're concerned."

Instinctively Zelda's eyes moved to Shayne, who stood a short distance away, sharing his applesauce with an army of ants.

"He was still very young for a Hylian," Zelda murmured. _Far too young to be on his own._

"I know that now," Saria said mournfully. "But I didn't back then… the Great Deku Tree could have told me, but he didn't. He must have thought it would help Link somehow."

Zelda couldn't imagine how leaving a poor child to live on his own could ever be helpful, but she let the matter go. Saria had done her best; that much was obvious.

"I knew I could always come back to you," Link assured Saria, taking her hand in his.

She gave him a grateful smile. "But then he met you," she said gently, turning to Zelda, "and he didn't need me so much anymore. He found you only days after he left the forest, and you two formed an immediate bond. He visited you all the time, using your ocarina, and eventually he started bringing you here when you were older…"

She trailed off when Link gave her a subtle look, then busied herself with the rest of her sandwich.

"Speaking of which," Link said, turning to Zelda, "there is a place I'd like to show you, deeper in the Woods. May I take you there?"

Zelda hesitated, slightly taken aback. "I… of course."

He smiled and looked to Saria. "Would you mind watching over Shayne for a while?"

"I'd be happy to, Link; you know that."

"Thank you. We should return in an hour or so. Don't clean up; we'll help you when we get back."

Saria scoffed and waved a hand at him. "Don't even worry about that; just enjoy yourselves. I'll keep Shayne occupied."

.

After thanking Saria and explaining the situation to Shayne, Link led Zelda back into the Lost Woods, guiding her through the trees while she held onto his arm. They made little conversation, though every now and then Link would point out a flower or a small creature scurrying along the forest floor. Despite the its apparent enchantments, Zelda could see that the Lost Woods was full of life, and if the animals were affected by its magic, they didn't seem to mind.

"How is it you know your way around here?" Zelda spoke, free to ask such questions in Shayne's absence.

"I'm immune to the enchantment," Link answered simply. "Like the Kokiri, I am blessed with the Deku Tree's protection."

"And that's how you know your way around?"

Link gave a quiet laugh. "No. I know these Woods because I explored them as a boy. I discovered many interesting places, and I visited them often."

Zelda fell quiet, wondering if he had sought refuge away from the village, where he never truly fit in. She had done something similar, back when she explored the castle as a girl.

 _To think that was nearly twenty years ago,_ she thought to herself. _It feels like yesterday._

"I can understand the lure of exploration," she told Link. "When I was a child I wanted to discover every inch of the castle."

"I remember," he replied, turning to her with a smile. "You showed me many unknown places in the castle. And I returned the favor here."

Zelda returned his smile, but inside she felt another tug of sadness, a desire to remember the boy with whom she had shared such adventures… the boy she had grown to love.

"We're here."

Her thoughts faded as Link led her to the edge of what looked like a deep ravine. Below them lay a massive pool of perfectly clear water, disturbed only by a tall, narrow waterfall. Sunshine warmed the entire lake through a gap in the trees, and the water's glassy surface seemed to dance in its light. The surrounding bank was mostly rock and pebbles, but beyond it lay a bed of lush green grass. Flowers of countless shapes and sizes colored the area, growing in bright patches among the grass, adorning vines, and sprouting from small blossoming trees.

"It's beautiful," Zelda breathed, letting Link take her hand as he led her down to the water's edge.

"We used to come here all the time," he said as they sat on a moss ridden log. "The water is quite warm, perfect for swimming. And it's beautiful by night as well—especially a moonlit night. Certain flowers and mushrooms glow in the dark—you can see them everywhere. And when the fireflies gather… it's quite a sight to behold. If you're lucky, you might even see a fairy or two pass by."

A blush warmed Zelda's face as she realized how very _romantic_ the place was. Just what sort of memories had they shared there? Was that why he had brought her there?

 _Stop jumping to conclusions,_ her practical side scolded her. _He just wanted to show you a beautiful place._

Zelda tried not to dwell on such thoughts, focusing instead on the soothing rush of the waterfall and the birds singing in the trees.

"I was quite wrong about this place," she told Link. "It's so lovely, even despite its dangerous enchantment, and it feels very peaceful here… It makes the troubles of the world seem small and far away."

Link nodded, his eyes fixed on the lake. "Yes... it does." He turned to her then, studying her profile. "So, how do you like my old house?"

Zelda gave a small laugh. "Very charming. But so humble, compared to your life now. Did you ever dream that you would one day become King of Hyrule?"

Link gave a halfhearted laugh of his own. "Certainly not. Though I did often dream about… visiting the castle."

"You pursued your dream and realized it—to say the least," Zelda said cheerfully. "Your story is as encouraging as it is extraordinary."

Link looked away then, noticeably saddened by her words, and immediately she regretted them.

"I'm sorry," she said gently. "I don't know enough to say such a thing…"

He waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. What else did you two talk about?"

Zelda thought a minute. "She told me how you came into her care, how she raised you… and how you left the forest when you were only ten years old. It's quite remarkable, but… you were so young to be on your own. Did no one else look after you?"

"I had friends outside of the forest," Link replied. "People I could go to if I needed them. And I could always come back here. In truth, though, I spent a lot of time with you over the next two years. My education here was rather lacking, to say the least, and you became a sort of tutor to me. We were both quite young, but you've always been very intelligent. You taught me a lot—history, language, grammar. We had daily lessons, and I enjoyed them immensely, as did you.

"Eventually, though, I grew restless," Link admitted, "and I went off to explore the kingdoms beyond Hyrule's border. My travels taught me a great deal about the world, and I did enjoy them, but… I missed Hyrule. And I missed you," he added softly.

Zelda dropped her gaze to her hands, feeling her heart flutter with nerves. She tried to remember that Link spoke of the past, and that he wasn't pressing any feelings upon her, but it flustered her nonetheless.

"I didn't travel for two years straight," Link told her. "I came back to Hyrule each spring—to visit you on your birthday. When I was fourteen, I discovered that your betrothed had finally taken an interest in you, and you were quite taken with him. Suddenly I felt… unwanted there. You were always kind to me, but you were engaged. Our friendship had become… inappropriate."

Zelda recalled their conversation in her chamber the previous night, remembering that her infatuation with her fiance had lasted three years. Had Link pined for her all that time, burdened with unrequited love?

"I was lost again… for a while," Link's quiet voice brought her back to the present. "But I didn't want to leave Hyrule, so I took up work at Lon Lon Ranch. Talon and his daughter were kind and welcoming people, but the work didn't suit me. There was plenty to do, but… I wanted to be part of something… larger. I needed a new kind of challenge, and I wanted to stay close to the castle—and to you," he added softly. "So I pursued the only path that made sense to me."

"To enlist in the army," Zelda said quietly.

Link nodded. "I was too young, though. I had the skills to be a good soldier, but mentally… I wasn't ready for the horrors of war."

A rush of compassion swept through Zelda, and she nearly reached out to touch his shoulder, but then Link turned to give her a sheepish smile.

"But enough about me. I've been meaning to ask you—did Saria say anything about… your amnesia?"

Zelda looked away, remembering the anguish in Saria's face as she begged her to recover her past, to become the Zelda Link knew and loved.

Link watched her closely, noticing her discomfort.

"She made a plea for my sake," he said. "Didn't she."

His voice lacked any inquisitive tone, as he apparently knew the answer. Zelda bowed her head, unsure what to say.

"She… She asked that I try to regain my memories; that's all."

Link sighed quietly, but Zelda could not recognize the cause. Embarrassment? Sympathy? Longing?

"That must have been uncomfortable for you," he said quietly. "I'm sorry. Please don't hold it against her… She's only looking out for me."

"I know," Zelda said quickly. "Any good mother would do the same, I'm sure—or even a friend... And it was a perfectly reasonable request—"

"Zelda."

She turned when Link took her hand in both of his, reluctantly meeting his gaze.

"If you do try to regain your memories," he said, his blue eyes gazing into hers, "then it must be of your own choosing. Don't do it for my sake, or Saria's, or anyone else's. No one can force you to act against your will."

His words swept through her with strong reassurance, but the feeling soon passed, and the weight in Zelda's chest remained.

"But surely you want me to remember," she whispered, looking at him sadly. "More than anything…"

Link studied her a moment, then lowered his gaze and withdrew his hands.

"I can't say what feelings I have… or will have for the woman you are now," he admitted slowly, "but I do respect you, and I will respect whatever decision you make—even if it hurts me. As I've said before, I ask only that you be a mother to Shayne, and he doesn't need your memories."

"I would hate to have you resent me..."

"If I do," he said softly, meeting her troubled gaze, "then it would be my failing, not yours."

Zelda gazed back at him, stunned by his selfless words—and his apparent sincerity. She wanted to return his consideration, to assure him that she did not oppose the idea of regaining her memories, but somehow the words stuck in her throat.

"Maybe it was a mistake to bring you here so soon," Link murmured. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you."

"No, I asked to come here. Thank you for sharing this with me... and for being so understanding."

"Friends do that much for each other," he replied. "I hope you'll at least consider me that."

Zelda smiled. "I certainly don't consider you an enemy."

Link gave a short laugh. "Well, that's a relief. Not the response I hoped for, but I'll take it."

Despite his playful tone, Zelda couldn't help but wonder if she hurt him when she kept her distance in that way. Before she could figure him out, however, Link rose to his feet and offered his hand.

"Come on," he said. "Let's head back."

Zelda took his hand and stood, pausing to brush herself off.

"Stay very close," he reminded her once they had climbed the hill overlooking the lake. Zelda noticed he did not offer his arm that time, perhaps intending to respect her boundaries. Still she heeded his word, following close at his heels.

Link moved slowly, checking for her with a frequent peripheral glance. Sheepishly Zelda wondered if she should spare him the effort and take his arm—when suddenly her foot caught on a root, making her stumble. She managed to catch herself, muttering under her breath, and quickly looked up—

Link was nowhere in sight.

Zelda looked around in mild bewilderment.

"Link?"

She received no answer.

"Link, where are you?"

Somewhere beyond the panic which crept along the edges of her thoughts, Zelda remembered Link's words from earlier.

" _I would find you in minutes… but I'd rather spare you that experience…"_

She swallowed, noticing that the forest seemed somehow changed. More ominous. The trees loomed before her, darker, taller, and fuller. Gnarled, entangled branches formed a dense canopy, blocking out the sun. Feeble shafts of light seeped through here and there, barely enough to illuminate her surroundings.

Helplessly she stood there, motionless, hoping Link would find her as promised.

" _Zelda…"_

Startled, she whirled about, heart pounding as she searched the shadowy wood.

 _That couldn't have been Link..._

"Who's there?" she called.

A quiet breeze rustled the leaves, tugging at her loose strands of hair.

" _Zelda…"_

The whisper swept past her pointed ears, louder, clearer, and yet… unfamiliar, unnatural, as though numerous voices had spoken in unison.

Fear crept along Zelda's spine.

"Show yourself!"


	7. Visions

AN: Thank you so much for the reviews! I really appreciate the feedback! :) Editing this chapter was kind of a nightmare; I hope it turned out all right...

* * *

— VISIONS —

* * *

" _Zelda…"_

Shadows shifted with sun's rays, dancing along the forest floor as countless branches swayed in the wind. Anxiously Zelda scanned her surroundings, certain that Link would appear at any minute…

A sudden movement caught her eye, and quickly she turned her head—then started with a small gasp.

A figure crouched in a nearby tree, watching her. Silent and still it waited, blending with the shade. Slowly Zelda backed away…

Then the figure leapt from its perch, landing with catlike agility on the ground before her. Zelda gave a startled yelp and backpedaled as the figure slowly stood.

The figure was a man—or so Zelda assumed. His lithe, toned figure and half covered face left him shrouded in ambiguity, but there was nothing questionable about his garment—or the blood red eyes which peered over his tightly wrapped scarf. Eyes like Impa's, clothing which bore the symbol of her ancient tribe…

 _A Sheikah…?_

Zelda opened her mouth to question him—

" _Sheik?"_

Again she whirled about, eyes wide with disbelief. _"Link?"_

It _was_ Link who had spoken, only he looked about ten years younger, barely a man, and he wore a simple green tunic which closely resembled the Kokiri's clothing. His blond hair was mostly hidden beneath a long, floppy green hat, and his left hand grasped a magnificent sword.

Relief softened his features when he recognized the Sheikah, and quickly he sheathed his sword at his back. _"Sheik, how did you get here?"_

The Sheikah did not answer but reached behind his back, freeing the small harp he apparently carried.

" _The flow of time is always cruel,"_ he said sadly, gazing down at the golden instrument. _"Its speed seems different for each person, but no one can change it…"_

Zelda stared at him, utterly confused. She could only assume she was witnessing something from Link's past, but she could derive no purpose from the vision. To her it seemed entirely random.

" _A thing that doesn't change with time,"_ Sheik's voice softened as he met Link's curious gaze, _"is a memory of younger days…"_

Then a powerful gust of wind tore through the Woods, bringing with it a cloud of dust and leaves. Zelda shielded her face as it whipped past, refusing to run in the hope that Link—the _real_ Link—would find her.

Finally the wind died down, allowing Zelda to lower her arm and open her eyes—

The forest was gone.

In its place stood the Temple of Time, just as she had left it mere hours ago. For a brief, disorienting moment Zelda thought she had somehow teleported back—

A turn of her head quickly dashed that theory, however, as Link and Sheik stood nearby, face to face only a few meters away. Link was still his younger self, and still dressed in green, but as she drew closer Zelda noticed a change in him. He looked tougher, more weathered and battle worn, and several more weapons hung from his belt. He carried himself with a newfound confidence, and his piercing gaze was calmer, more guarded—very unlike the unsure teenager she had seen in the forest only moments ago. He was still just a boy, still inexperienced compared to the Link she knew, but she could not ignore the change in him.

Sheik's quiet voice floated about the massive chamber, and Zelda drew closer to better hear his words. She had barely taken two steps, however, when Sheik suddenly raised his hands in a Sheikah fighting stance. A golden glow emitted from his right hand, growing brighter until it enveloped his entire body with a blinding light. Again Zelda was forced to shield her eyes, but she looked up as soon as the light began to fade…

…only to find _herself_ looking back.

A young woman, no older than Link, stood where Sheik had been, dressed in a long, pale rose gown. Golden plate armor adorned her shoulders, and across her forehead was an elegant, ruby-studded circlet.

Zelda had seen her reflection enough to be certain—this woman was her younger self.

" _It is I,"_ she said to Link, _"the Princess of Hyrule, Zelda."_

Her voice was softer, noticeably more feminine than Sheik's had been. For a moment Link could only gape at her, looking as stunned as Zelda felt by Sheik's unveiling, if not more. A look of uncertainty crossed her younger self's features, and slowly she drew closer to Link.

" _I apologize for meeting you in disguise,"_ she told him gently, _"but it was necessary to hide from the King of Evil. Please forgive me…"_

Then, before Zelda could make sense of the scene before her, the chamber darkened and faded away. The floor vanished beneath her feet, and she was falling, falling through nothingness…

Her feet struck solid ground, landing with surprising ease, and she looked up to find herself newly surrounded by utter desolation. Piles of charred rubble lay heaped in every direction, the remains of what must have been a massive structure. Grey storm clouds swirled about an angry sky, flashing with lightning as rain threatened to fall.

A wall of fire suddenly blazed behind her, its intense heat nearly scorching her back, but something far more dangerous held her attention.

For there, standing before her amidst the rubble and flames, was a fearsome, monstrous beast.

It's glowing yellow eyes bore into her, illuminating its long, sharp tusks and wild red mane. Thick armor protected its dark, bulky body, and its humanoid hands grasped two gigantic swords.

The beast snarled and swung the blades mere inches from her face, causing her to stumble and fall backward onto the ground. Convinced she had entered some kind of nightmare, Zelda desperately looked for Link—any version of him—but he was nowhere to be found.

"This isn't real," she whispered to herself, watching the beast with wide, fearful eyes. "This cannot be real…"

Then the beast advanced, raising both swords with a furious, deafening roar, and Zelda released a terrified scream—

" _Zelda!"_

She opened her eyes with a ragged gasp, shocked to find herself back in the Lost Woods. A clear blue sky peeked through the calm treetops, and faint birdsongs echoed about the otherwise quiet forest. And Link—the _real_ Link—knelt before her, grasping her arms with a panicked expression.

"Zelda, can you hear me?"

His voice, unusually tense with fright, shook Zelda from her stunned trance.

"Link?" she stammered.

"Oh, thank the gods," he breathed, giving her a look of deep relief. "Yes, I'm here. You were hallucinating…"

Zelda furrowed her brow, still struggling to trust her senses. "I was… hallucinating…?"

"I'm so sorry—I should have held onto you… Are you all right?"

She grabbed his arm and nodded. "Just… get me out of here," she whispered.

"Of course," he replied gently, watching her every move as he helped her to her feet. Zelda clutched his arm with an iron grip—one that might have been painful, but Link gave no indication as he led her out of the Woods.

* * *

xXx

* * *

They reached the village without further incident, and Zelda released Link's arm as they headed toward Saria's house. Once inside, Link ushered her into a chair and moved to pour her a cup of water.

"Do you want to talk about what you saw?" he asked her gently, setting the cup on the table.

Zelda shook her head, staring down at her hands. "I just want to leave."

Instinctively Link reached for her shoulder, then thought better of it and lowered his hand. "I'll get Shayne."

Quickly he left the house and sought out Saria, worry and disappointment burdening his every step. He soon found her kneeling by the waterfall with Shayne, trying in vain to remove the grass stains from his pants.

Shayne smiled when he saw his father approach them. "Papa, wanna play hide n' seek with us? And Mama too?"

Link smiled weakly. "No, sweetie, we have to go home now."

The smile wilted from Shayne's face. "No, I wanna stay," he objected. "It's my turn to seek…"

Saria stood and gave Link a concerned look. "You're leaving already?"

He gave her a discreet nod, and she knew better than to object, despite her disappointment.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," Link told Shayne, "you can play more when we visit again."

"But I wanna play now… Why we have to go?"

Link knelt down to place his hands on Shayne's shoulders, steeling himself against his son's crestfallen face. Much like his mother, Shayne lived a rather isolated childhood; rarely did he spend time with so many playmates at once. There in the forest, he could taste the freedom of being a normal little boy, grass stains and all.

"How about I see if Connor and the other Bard children can visit tomorrow?" Link soothed. "You like to play hide and seek with them too; don't you?"

Shayne seemed to consider this, his blue eyes downcast. "But I wanna play with the Kokiri…" he mumbled, trailing the toe of his boot through the dirt.

"I know, sweetie, but we have to go home now," Link repeated gently. "You can play with them again next time. Come on…"

Reluctantly Shayne let his father lead him back toward Saria's house, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Saria did her best to cheer him up, promising a selection of seeds for his garden at their next visit, but something so far into the future offered little consolation for the three-year-old.

Zelda stood waiting for them outside the house, and she quickly came forward to thank Saria and bid her farewell. Link was relieved to see the two embrace and exchange friendly words, though he wondered if Zelda merely concealed any hard feelings. With her memories gone and their bond suppressed, she was but a mystery to him.

Finally, after Saria had given Link and Shayne each one last hug, the family left the village and headed back into the Lost Woods—where Zelda once again kept a tight grip on Link's arm.

.

Their hike to the Sacred Forest Meadow was an awkward one. Zelda declined to speak unless Link addressed her, and Shayne was too busy sulking to fill the silence. Link tried to cheer him up with a game, but the boy's response was mild at best.

When they finally reached the Forest Temple, Link was saddened by his own relief. The forest had always been a place of sanctuary for him and Zelda, as both a private escape and an actual refuge from danger.

 _But now…_ Link sighed and took the Ocarina from his pocket, unable to finish that painful thought.

"Wait," Zelda spoke, laying a hand on his arm. "I won't… hallucinate again; will I?"

"The enchantment won't reach you here," Link assured her. "You'll be safe; I promise."

She nodded and stepped away, glancing about the meadow with uncertainty. Releasing another quiet sigh, Link tightened his hold on Shayne and brought the Ocarina to his lips. The forest soon vanished behind a wall of shimmering light, and moments later Link found himself in the silent Temple of Time.

"You're early."

Link turned to see Impa approach them from the back of the chamber.

"Is everything all right?" she asked.

"Yes, I think so," he replied, lowering Shayne onto the floor. Slowly the boy slid from his father's arms, sinking down until he sat on the the polished tiles. Impa glanced down at him, noticing his sullen expression, then arched a silver brow at Link.

"I'll explain later," he told her.

Then he played the Ocarina once more, letting its magic carry him back to the Sacred Forest Meadow.

Zelda stood with her back to him, hugging her arms as she scanned her surroundings. It was a habit she had been forced to break in her adolescent years, as it made her look nervous and unsure of herself.

Looking at her then, in that old, familiar stance, Link was struck with a sudden, intense desire to protect her—from anything and anyone. He had experienced a similar sensation earlier that day, when he failed to immediately break through her hallucinations.

Link had harbored these powerful, inexplicable feelings for Zelda since the day they met. The two had been bound by friendship, love, and a shared destiny, but over the years he had grown aware of something deeper between them—something primal, even _ancient_ , as though it had existed not just the majority of his life, but in countless lifetimes before.

 _Will I always feel this way for her_ , _even if my Zelda is lost? Will I always be torn between this…_ loyalty _to her and my love for the Zelda I knew?_

Unsettled by such thoughts, Link pushed them aside and spoke Zelda's name to draw her attention. His voice startled her, gentle though it had been, but she quickly recovered and went to him. Trying to ignore the awkwardness of their embrace, Link lifted the Ocarina and promptly returned them to Castletown.

"Welcome back," Impa greeted them with a smile. "Did you enjoy your visit, Zelda?"

She had managed to coax Shayne back onto his feet, and quickly he moved to take his mother's hand.

"Oh—yes," Zelda replied as they walked toward the temple doors. "The forest is as extraordinary as it is lovely. And Saria is a wonderful girl. I'm glad to have met her—again," she added, glancing down at Shayne. He took no notice of her slip, however, and simply trudged along in moody silence.

Impa cast Link a sidelong glance, aware of the forced cheerfulness in Zelda's tone, but he just shook his head. _Not now._

The carriage awaited them outside, just as they had left it, and wordlessly the family climbed aboard, Impa following close behind.

Inside Shayne chose to sit on his mother's lap, and immediately she drew him up into her arms, stroking his hair as they gazed out the window. The familiar sight brought a painful knot to Link's throat, though he couldn't say which emotion he felt more strongly—relief that Shayne could detect no change in his mother, or disappointment that he himself had failed to grow closer to Zelda. He had hoped to regain more of her trust that day, but he feared he had lost some instead.

.

Upon their return to the castle, the family was greeted by the Royal Chamberlain, Ariella Pierson, and the Captain of the Royal Guard, Ian Pierson. While the captain took Link aside to discuss the risk of visiting Castletown without a proper escort, Ariella led Zelda and Shayne on toward the castle, where several attendants awaited them.

"Goodness gracious, Shayne, however did you manage so many grass stains…"

Link's attention diverted toward his son, where he saw two of Shayne's nursemaids fussing over him. One had gently taken his hand to lead him up the stairs, but Shayne was having none of it.

"No, I want Mama!" he said loudly, pulling his hand away.

Immediately Zelda was there, lifting Shayne into her arms and dismissing the nursemaids. Link watched her carry him inside, relieved to see her willing attentiveness to their son. Considering the lingering scare of his mother's long slumber, coupled with his recent disappointment, it was hardly a time to leave Shayne with the nursemaids.

A hand on Link's shoulder drew his attention, and he turned to see Impa studying him with concern. He also noticed that Ian had seemingly vanished.

"I dismissed him for now," Impa assured him. "I figured that was the last thing you need to hear right now."

Link murmured his thanks as they climbed the stairs leading into the castle. Two guards moved to open the doors, pressing their fists to their hearts in salute as Link passed.

"Are you going to tell me what happened to her?" Impa murmured so they wouldn't be overheard.

Link hesitated, recalling the way Zelda had dropped to her knees and covered her face, muttering incoherently before she suddenly screamed with terror.

"She saw something… in the Lost Woods," he answered just as quietly. "Some kind of hallucination or vision; I can't say what exactly."

"She didn't say?"

"No, but, whatever it was, it terrified her." Link shook his head, feeling another stab of frustration. "I should never have brought her there so soon. She wasn't ready for it."

"I wouldn't say that," Impa replied. "Whatever she saw might do her some good."

"Or the opposite," Link sighed. "I think she blames me for letting it happen."

"Don't be silly; you warned her about the forest's enchantments."

"Yes, but I… I didn't hold onto her at one point. It seemed to make her uncomfortable, so I thought if I just watched her closely… The next thing I knew she was down on her knees, lost in a hallucination. She was never in any danger, of course, but she was quite shaken by it. And she's been… distant since it happened."

"She just needs time to make sense of it. I'm sure she'll come to you with questions soon enough."

"Actually," Link said, slowing them to a stop in the entrance chamber. "I was hoping you could go check on her. I should probably make an appearance at court."

Impa gave him a sympathetic look. "All right, but I suspect she will save her questions for you."

"I doubt that," Link muttered. "Will you be joining us at supper?"

"No, I have other arrangements tonight. But I'd like to begin Zelda's lessons in meditation—tomorrow, if she's willing."

"Good," Link nodded. "Let me know how it goes."

Impa crossed her arms and gave him a knowing look. "Why don't you ask her yourself? She doesn't bite, Link."

He sighed and walked away, aware of her crimson eyes on his back. "I'll see you tomorrow, Impa."

He left the entrance chamber and headed for the main stairway, remembering to change into finer clothes before he attended court. Two attendants shadowed his steps, following him into his chamber and selecting his clothes at his request. All the while he struggled to empty his mind of Zelda, determined to be more receptive to the needs of his people after so many days of distraction.

 _I will uphold the Harkinian name,_ he told himself, lifting his arms so the servants could cover them in a dark red coat _._ _Even if she never recovers her memories, even if she pushes me away…_

His eyes flicked to the mirror, watching his reflection as the attendants polished his boots and placed a simple golden crown upon his head.

 _I must be strong._

* * *

xXx

* * *

Zelda had spent the remainder of the afternoon with Shayne, playing make believe and wandering the castle grounds until supper. Although Shayne had long returned to his cheerful self, Zelda felt quite restless as they waited for Link to join them in the private dining room. She knew she had spoiled the excursion for both Link and Shayne, and a swarm of questions had since collected in her mind, buzzing like an angry hive of bees.

Zelda was inclined to think the hallucinations had been actual visions—and that she had witnessed a series of events from her clouded past. Yet everything she knew about her life seemed to contradict what she had seen. Why had she disguised herself as a Sheikah? Who was this so-called 'King of Evil,' and when had she and Link confronted him?

She had brought Shayne to the castle library that afternoon, where she had taken a moment to leaf through the latest history book. In it she read only what Impa had already told her—that three wars had ravaged Hyrule in the past twenty years, none of which she could remember. She found no mention of the 'King of Evil,' and nothing she read suggested a need for her to disguise herself, since Hyrule Castle had never fallen.

None of it made sense.

What troubled her most of all, of course, was the demonic, armored beast. Zelda wanted to believe such a horrid creature couldn't possibly exist, yet she could not deny that it had seemed somehow _familiar._

The sound of the doors opening broke through Zelda's thoughts, and Shayne immediately brightened when his father entered the room.

"Hullo, Papa!"

Link smiled, obviously glad to see his son in higher spirits. "Hi there, kiddo," he said, stroking Shayne's head as he passed behind him. "Did you have fun with Mama this afternoon?"

"Uh huh. Mama played with me in my room, and then we went to the library to read a story. And then we went outside, and I saw—"

"Shayne, sweetie," Zelda said gently, stopping him with a hand on his arm. "Why don't we say grace first, and then you can tell your father all about the fun we had, all right?"

Link cast her grateful smile as they clasped their hands and bowed their heads in prayer. Once they had finished, Shayne immediately picked up where Zelda had interrupted him, earning another smile from his father.

Yet despite Link's positive demeanor, Zelda noticed signs of fatigue in his face. Faint shadows had formed under his eyes, and his smiles faded as quickly as they came.

 _He must have difficulty sleeping_ , she realized with a wave of guilt. Aside from her troubling amnesia and the burden of her added responsibilities, Link was forced to sleep alone each night—something he had not done in six years.

 _You've turned his life upside-down… and he's been nothing but kind and reassuring._

And yet, despite his show of patience, Zelda could not help but wonder if he had caused her visions to happen in the forest. The Great Deku Tree held dominion over the Lost Woods, and considering Link's close ties with him…

" _...I have faith you will regain what you have lost,"_ The Deku Tree's mysterious words echoed through Zelda's mind, "... _if you open yourself to the possibilities available to you..."_

Had those "possibilities" included her visions in the Lost Woods?

Link had seemed so worried when she finally broke free of her trance, but that hardly proved that he wasn't involved…

 _Enough. These thoughts will lead you in circles._

Still she found it difficult to make eye contact with Link throughout their meal, fearing he might somehow know her suspicions if he held her gaze. Though she could not allow herself to trust him fully, she felt no desire to hurt him.

 _I just need time_ , she told herself. _Time and clarity_.

Fortunately Shayne's near breathless chatter lasted the entire meal, sparing his parents any long, awkward pauses. Listening to him talk about their visit to the forest did revive Zelda's feelings of guilt and unease, but Link didn't seem to notice.

"Papa, when we go see Saria again?"

Link paused and lowered his wineglass, glancing in Zelda's direction with uncertainty. "Oh, well…"

Zelda lowered her gaze and busied herself with her meal, letting Link answer as he saw fit.

"Soon," he finally said, meeting the boy's eager gaze. "We'll surprise you again, all right?"

Zelda lifted her head, managing a polite smile as she reached for her own wineglass.

 _He probably thinks I would dread another visit_ , she realized with a pang of regret. The forest had always been an important part of his life, and the two of them had obviously made some cherished memories there—all of which she had forgotten.

 _I'm not making this any easier for him,_ she realized sadly. _At this rate he'll learn to despise me._

* * *

xXx

* * *

Once they had finished their supper, and after Link had helped Shayne with his bath, the family gathered in Shayne's room for his bedtime story. Once again the prince requested his favorite, only that time he didn't object when Link volunteered to tell it—much to Zelda's relief.

"Once upon a time," Link began, "there was a little boy who lived in a great big forest."

"Like the Kokiri Forest!" Shayne added, lifting Scrub above his head.

"Yes, just like the Kokiri Forest. And every night this boy had the same dream about a young princess on a white horse. But it wasn't a happy dream. The princess always looked very frightened because she and her guardian were being chased by a scary man on a black horse.

"The boy never understood why he saw this dream over and over. So one day he decided he must try to find the princess. So he left his home and traveled beyond the forest, searching far and wide."

Zelda listened as Link described the boy's journey north to the walls of Castletown—or at least a town very much like it. Considering what she had learned about Link's past, it was obvious that the story drew inspiration from his own life.

"But the boy did not stay in the town very long," Link said. "As much as he wanted to explore the streets and try new things, he was far more concerned with finding the princess. So he made his way to the castle's main gate and ran up to the guards, asking to see the princess right away. And what did the guards say to him?"

"They said to go away!" Shayne exclaimed, smacking the bed covers.

"That's right, Shayne. They laughed at him and told him to go home, claiming the princess didn't want to see him. But the boy refused to believe that. He knew the only way he would see the princess was if he _sneaked_ into the castle." Link ran his fingertips up Shayne's arm and tickled him beneath his ear, earning a shriek of giggles.

Zelda had to stifle a laugh of her own as Link described the boy's amazing ability to slip past the guards, dive into the castle moat, and squeeze through a small drain in the inner wall, which led into the castle gardens.

 _I certainly hope our real guards weren't so easily fooled_.

"The boy saw twice as many guards in the gardens," Link continued, "but he managed to hide in the shadows, sneaking from place to place without drawing their attention. Then, finally, in one of the smaller courtyards, he spotted a pretty little girl in a pale pink dress."

"The princess!" Shayne cheered.

"That's right, it was the princess," Link replied with a hushed tone. "The boy was so excited to finally meet her, so he left his hiding place and ran straight to her. The princess was startled at first, but then, much to his amazement, she recognized him too!"

Zelda smiled gently. _This must be where he deviates from reality._

"The princess had also seen the boy in her dreams," Link explained, "but she had other dreams too—scary nightmares about a dark sorcerer who wanted to steal the throne of her kingdom using a powerful magic. The only way she could stop him was if she collected three special stones before the sorcerer could find them—an emerald from the boy's people in the forest, a ruby from the Gorons in the mountain, and a sapphire from the Zoras—"

"Papa, tell the funny one about the Zoras!" Shayne asked, bouncing against his pillow.

"Maybe tomorrow, kiddo," Link said gently, "it's too late to start that story now."

Shayne slumped his shoulders but quickly recovered, content to listen as Link summarized the boy's quest to collect the three stones for the princess.

"But then," Link said in a tense, dramatic tone, "as the boy ran toward the town, he saw a white horse run across the drawbridge at top speed. It was the princess and her guardian—they were being chased by a man on a black horse, just as the boy had seen in his dreams!"

"Oh no!" Shayne gasped, hugging Scrub close.

"The boy was so scared that he had come too late, but then he heard the princess' voice in his head, telling him to bring the stones to a temple near the castle."

 _The Temple of Time, no doubt,_ Zelda thought.

"So he ran deeper into the town, terrified to see houses burning and monsters swarming the streets. He ran all the way to the temple and placed the stones upon a special altar, just like the princess had told him to do."

"And then a big door opened!" Shayne piped up.

"That's right, Shayne," Link smiled. "The stones acted like a key which revealed a secret room in the very back of the temple. And there," he added in a softer, more serious tone, "at the center of the room, was a pedestal holding a very important sword."

 _A sword…_

Zelda lifted her gaze, remembering the sword Link had carried in her vision. She allowed herself a glance at his face, noticing his eyes seemed distant, as though lost in a memory.

"The Master Sword," Shayne whispered.

Zelda furrowed her brow, certain she had heard the name before. _Perhaps Impa told me a similar story when I was a child…_

"Yes, the Master Sword," Link said, still using his softer voice. "It called to the boy by name, urging him to take the sword from its pedestal. He was much too small to wield it, but still he approached the pedestal and reached for the hilt, pulling with all his might…"

Link seemed to break from his reverie then, as his eyes focused on Shayne's eager face.

"The walls of the temple vanished, and the boy was swept away to another place, where he saw a bright, blinding light. And there," he added in a darker tone, "right behind him, was the evil sorcerer himself!"

"Oh no!" Shayne cried again, bringing the covers up to his chin.

"The sorcerer laughed and shoved the boy aside as he moved toward the light," Link continued in his dramatic tone. "The boy was very scared and confused, but there was nothing he could do. The sorcerer had stolen the magical power—the very power that he and the princess had tried so hard to protect."

"But then he went to sleep!" Shayne added.

Zelda blinked, suppressing a laugh at his silly outburst. To her surprise, however, Link nodded.

"Yes, Shayne, the boy then fell into a deep, enchanted sleep, one that lasted for seven long years. And when he finally woke up, he was strong enough to wield the Master Sword—the only sword that could defeat the dark sorcerer. We'll refer to the boy as the swordsman now, since he's no longer a little boy.

"When the swordsman returned to the temple, where he had drawn the Master Sword, he was greeted by a mysterious Sheikah—"

"It's the princess!" Shayne cheered. Then he clapped his hands over his mouth and looked at his father with wide eyes—much to Link's amusement.

Zelda, however, sat frozen on the bed, unable to believe her ears.

"That's a secret, silly!" Link laughed. "The swordsman doesn't know it yet."

Shayne giggled, but Zelda was too stunned to react, too preoccupied with the vision replaying before her mind's eye.

" _I apologize for meeting you in disguise… but it was necessary to hide from the King of Evil…"_

"Mama?"

Zelda's head snapped up to find both Link and Shayne watching her with puzzled expressions.

"What's wrong, Mama?" Shayne asked.

"Oh, I… nothing, sweetie, nothing at all. " Her eyes met Link's as she waved a dismissive hand. "I was just thinking... Go on with the story; don't mind me."

Link hesitated, studying her with his probing gaze, but then turned back to Shayne.

"The world had changed while the boy was sleeping," he continued, switching to a quiet, more solemn tone. "The walled city had been destroyed, and all of the people had gone. What used to be the princess's beautiful castle had become a dark tower, where the sorcerer reigned as the King of Evil. The real king was gone, but the princess had managed to escape, though many believed she had been lost in the attack all those years ago…"

Zelda listened as Link described the swordsman's next challenge, trying to ignore her growing frustration.

According to the story, she herself had, under the guise of a Sheikah, instructed Link to awaken six elemental sages so they could help him overthrow the dark sorcerer. Once he had succeeded in this monumental task and earned his title as the Hero of their kingdom, Link met Zelda—Sheik, as she had called herself—in the temple one last time before he faced the sorcerer in a final showdown. It was there that she revealed her true identity as the princess.

 _Just as I saw in the forest_ , Zelda thought. _But how much of this story is true? How can_ any _of it be true?_

She was disappointed to learn that the sorcerer had captured her soon afterward, using the power he had stolen all those years ago. She had been trapped inside some crystalline barrier and teleported her to his dark castle, leaving Link to chase after her.

"The dark castle!" Shayne exclaimed, breaking through Zelda's thoughts.

"Yes, Shayne, it was a very dark and scary castle, full of monsters," Link replied, regaining his lower, more dramatic tone. "The Hero climbed many, many stairs, fighting many monsters as he went. Finally he made it all the way to the top, and there he found the King of Evil himself."

Shayne gasped and drew the covers up over his head. "And the princess too!"

Gently Link lifted the blanket off Shaye's head. "Yes, the princess was there too, still trapped inside the barrier. She was forced to watch as the two fought—the Hero with the Master Sword, and the sorcerer with his dark magic. It was a long and difficult battle, but eventually the King of Evil was defeated."

"And then the tower fell down!" Shayne burst out.

"Well, the tower _started_ to fall down," Link corrected him with a smile. "The princess broke free of her barrier and quickly led the Hero back down all those stairs, shielding them from monsters and falling rocks with her magic.

"Finally they reached the bottom and ran far away from the castle, escaping just in time before the tower collapsed. They were both so relieved, so happy that the evil king was defeated at last. However…"

Link paused and glanced at Shayne, who was obviously bursting to reveal the next twist in the story.

"Then they saw the big monster!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air.

Zelda's heart gave a painful lurch. _The beast…_

"Yes, they certainly did," Link nodded, glancing toward Zelda. "The sorcerer had used the last of his strength to transform into a terrifying beast. The Hero had no choice but to fight him again…"

Zelda listened to the rest of the story in a weary state of disbelief, learning how Link had managed to weaken the beast, enabling Zelda to open a portal and cast the sorcerer into another dimension—with the help of the sages.

Link finished the story with a typical happy ending, assuring Shayne that peace had been restored and the people celebrated their freedom as they rebuilt their kingdom. Satisfied, the boy had snuggled into his pillow with Scrub, letting his parents kiss him goodnight.

Then finally, once they had left Shayne's room and closed the door behind them, Zelda turned to Link.

"We need to talk," she said urgently, meeting his tired gaze. "Now."


	8. Pieces

AN: So sorry for the longer delay! Between life in general I had some trouble writing this chapter, and then more trouble editing it. I hope it's worth the wait...

* * *

— PIECES —

* * *

"That story you just told… how much of it is true?"

Link glanced toward his wife, trying to ignore the way her hair shone in the firelight, the way her slender form appeared so small and delicate in her oversized armchair… Her brilliant eyes watched him intently, and Link found himself looking away into the fire, unsure she was ready for the truth about the Imprisoning War.

"You lived it, didn't you?" she pressed. "And so did I. You are the hero and I am the princess. And the sorcerer… he was real too?"

"He is very real," Link murmured, his voice tinged with bitterness.

"Is? He isn't dead?"

"He cannot be killed, not since he stole the power of the gods."

Zelda hesitated, registering the gravity of his words. "This power… it enables him to transform?"

"That and more." Link sighed and turned to meet her dubious gaze. "He became an immortal being. If we had tried to kill him, he would have changed form and fled. He would have hidden deep in the shadows, gathering his strength until he could wreak havoc again—decades, maybe centuries later. A more permanent solution, gods willing, was to trap him in the Sacred Realm and seal him there, never to escape."

Zelda nodded, but Link knew his response had raised more questions than it answered.

"And who was this sorcerer," she asked, "before he stole that power? Where did he come from, and why did he come to my father?"

"He was known as the Gerudo King, Ganondorf," Link replied. "The conflict between Hylians and the Gerudo had ended ten years prior, but it was a weak truce, and significant tension remained. Ganondorf came to your father with talk of friendship and peace, but it was all a ruse. He knew of the divine power your family has guarded for centuries, and he wanted it for himself. Once he had gained your father's trust, he unleashed his dark magic upon Castletown and stormed the castle itself, demanding the Ocarina of Time."

"...And I had foreseen that this would happen?"

Link sighed, recognizing her flat tone, her suspension of belief. "Yes. You've had prophetic dreams and visions all your life, and you sensed Ganondorf's evil even before he came to your father. You took it upon yourself to expose his intentions, but your father failed to take your premonitions seriously."

Zelda waited for him to continue, evidently aware that she needed far more information. She radiated frustration like the hearth radiated heat, and so Link plunged into a full explanation.

"Zelda," he said gently, leaning forward in his chair, "when I told you that divine intervention helped me find you in the gardens all those years ago, I meant it. You and I were destined to meet. The story we've told Shayne is… abridged, but it is the truth. I did leave the forest to find you, I did collect the Stones at your request, and I did pull the Master Sword from its pedestal, which, unbeknownst to us at the time, opened a gateway to the Sacred Realm. Ganondorf had been aware of our movements, and he used our efforts to his advantage. Instead of stopping him, we unwittingly helped him achieve his goal. Our mistake resulted in seven years of darkness under his reign of terror—"

"How much of this has been documented?" Zelda inquired suddenly. "And where can I find it?"

"You won't find it," Link replied, painfully aware of her leery demeanor. "Our records state that Ganondorf was captured and returned to Gerudo territory, where he was executed for his crimes. In truth, he followed me into the Sacred Realm and never returned."

"So there was never a 'reign of terror'—"

"There was," Link said firmly. "You endured the worst of it while I remained asleep, just as the story says. When I woke seven years later, you and I worked together to end Ganondorf's tyranny and reverse his destruction. We succeeded, and then you used the Ocarina to alter time itself."

Zelda stared, then blinked. "I did… what…?"

"You sent us back to the moment when I first drew the Master Sword, but Ganondorf remained trapped in the Sacred Realm, which is unaffected by the passage of time."

She shook her head, clearly unsettled. "No… No, I don't have that kind of power…"

"You do. You were born with a powerful Gift, but you also bear the Triforce of Wisdom. That gave you the power to seal Ganondorf away and restore Hyrule to an era of peace."

"The Triforce?" Zelda stammered. "The Triforce is a myth—a symbol of the divine blessing upon my family. It doesn't actually exist."

Link sighed and flexed his left hand, half expecting their Triforce pieces to resonate. Zelda had taught him to summon its magic on command, but on rare occasion the insignias would randomly glow, as though the pieces possessed a will of their own.

"...It is necessary that the public believes that," he told her, "but the Triforce is a real, obtainable relic, left by the Golden Goddesses when they departed this world. It was housed in the Sacred Realm until Ganondorf tried to steal it. Legend says that when someone with an evil heart touches the Triforce, it splits into three pieces—Power, Wisdom, and Courage. The latter two go to their chosen Keepers for protection; only Power remains with the one who tried to steal the Triforce."

Zelda's eyes widened. "And… I am the Keeper of Wisdom?"

Link nodded. "And I am Keeper of Courage."

Her eyes locked with his, fixing him with another intense, electrifying gaze.

"Have you any other titles I should know about?"

Link searched her face, unsure whether she was being serious or not. Countless responses surfaced in his mind, and he took a moment to shuffle through them, settling on something less grandiose.

"All you need to know," he told her, "is that I was born into this fate, just like you. There have been others like me, other warriors in ages past, but we were all born with the same purpose: to take up the Master Sword and defend Hyrule from evil."

Zelda studied him with the same unreadable expression, leaving him with an onslaught of nerves.

"This is not a burden I bear alone," he said quickly. "You have shared it with me, as the leader of Hyrule's seven elemental Sages."

"...And who are these other Sages?"

"You have met two of them. Impa is the Sage of Shadow, and Saria is the Sage of the Forest. Three happen to be the leaders of their respective tribe—Ruto of the Zora is the Sage of Water, Darunia of the Gorons is the Sage of Fire, and Nabooru of the Gerudo is the Sage of Spirit. The Sage of Light is Rauru, an ancient Hylian who exists only in spiritual form."

Zelda looked away, failing to produce another question, and Link's unease faded with a rush of sympathy. Skeptic or not, she was clearly overwhelmed.

"I know this is a lot to take in," he said gently. "I'm willing to answer any questions you have, whenever you want to ask them."

A long moment passed before she spoke, her tone so soft that Link strained to hear it above the crackling fire.

"The monster in Shayne's story," she said, "...is that real too?"

"Yes," he murmured, watching her closely. "The monster is one of Ganondorf's more formidable transformations. When he abandons his Gerudo form, he is called Ganon."

Zelda stared into the flames, her eyes clouded with uncertainty. "Ganon…"

"Is that what you saw earlier today?" Link asked her gently. "In the Lost Woods?"

Her eyes sharpened into focus, meeting his before she looked away. "...I saw many things."

He suppressed a disappointed sigh. _She will discuss it when she is ready._

"I need proof."

Link blinked, then furrowed his brow. "Proof?"

Zelda met his gaze, and he saw a familiar defiance in her eyes, one she rarely directed at him.

"Take up the Sword," she said. "Prove that you are what you say—that any of this is true."

Link stared at her, reeling from her harsh implications.

"Why would I lie to you?" he stammered.

"I don't know," she defended. "All I do know is that this all seems too… implausible. Random hallucinations and the word of a stranger can hardly prove such extravagant claims. I need to see it with my own eyes—the Stones, the Sword, everything."

Link looked away to compose himself, feeling oddly numb and rigid.

"If you wish to see the Stones," he said, his eyes still fixed on the hearth, "then you must visit Ruto and Darunia alone. I cannot accompany you."

"But you will show me the Sword?"

Link closed his eyes. "No," he said coldly, "I won't."

"And why is that?"

Link did not miss her accusatory tone. He turned to her then, letting her see the anger in his face.

"If I drew the Sword from its pedestal," he said, failing to keep the venom from his tone, "it would weaken the barrier that keeps Ganondorf sealed away. I won't put everything we've fought for at risk because you can't find it within yourself to trust me. And I won't ask Ruto or Darunia to hand over their Sacred Stones so you might be convinced. The Imprisoning War is over, erased from history. Whether you believe me doesn't matter anymore."

He rose to his feet, seized with a desire to leave the room, to distance himself from her.

"Wait," Zelda said, leaving her chair as well. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to insult you. You have given me no reason to question your honesty."

Link paused halfway to to the door, turning to cast her a mild but cynical look. _And yet you do._

"I just need time," she said in a gentler tone. "It's barely been a week since I woke, and this is all just so… so..."

"Implausible," Link finished. "So you've said. Well, you have time, and you have the truth—do with them what you will."

Then promptly he left the room, finding enough control to quietly close the door. He walked the corridor in a frustrated daze and, once inside his own chamber, moved toward the fireplace and collapsed into a chair. Regret chewed at his conscience as he stared into the flames, even while he endured the sting of Zelda's rejection.

Before he could sink deeper into his melancholy, a knock sounded at the door. Link ignored it, thinking it might be Zelda. He had nothing more to say to her, at least for one night.

To his surprise, the door opened anyway. Link jumped from his chair, a harsh dismissal on his tongue—only to find someone unexpected.

"Impa," he breathed, sinking back into his chair and rubbing his tired face. "I thought you were in Kakariko."

"I chose not to stay overnight."

"Did something happen?"

"No. All is well in Kakariko."

"That's good." Link waited for the sound of her leaving, but only silence followed. "Is there something urgent you need from me?" he asked, aware of her eyes on the back of his head.

Silently she crossed the room and joined him by the fire, sitting on the edge of the chair closest to him.

"I saw you leave Zelda's room," she said. "You seemed upset."

He shook his head. "I'm just tired, Impa."

"Tell me what happened."

"We just talked. She had questions, and I answered them."

"Did you discuss her visions?"

"No. But whatever she saw, it was related to the Imprisoning War."

"How do you know?"

"She recognized parts of Shayne's bedtime story. _The_ story."

Impa hummed with intrigue. "Interesting."

"She wanted to know the truth, so I told her a bit of everything."

"And how did she respond?"

Link sighed as a familiar ache stirred in his chest. "She is skeptical. She asked for proof, to see the Master Sword and the Stones… and I denied her."

Impa nodded slowly. "I see."

"I should have known she might respond like that," he admitted. "Who in their right mind could believe such a story? So I might have overreacted, but… Impa, she has forgotten _everything_ …"

"Link—"

"I don't understand it," he spoke over her, rising from his chair to pace before the fire. "I've done everything I can to inspire her trust, but she's still so… so paranoid or uptight…"

He trailed off with a sigh, resting his elbow against the fireplace mantel as he stared into the flames. He loathed to speak critically of Zelda, regardless of her circumstances.

"Maybe I'm the insensitive one," he murmured, more to himself than to Impa. "Maybe she wasn't ready for any of it, and I was too selfish to see it…"

"You're nothing of the sort," Impa told him. "She _is_ rather paranoid and uptight. Actually, I'm not entirely surprised that she's like this."

Link turned away from the fire, giving her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

Impa sighed and gestured to his chair. "Sit down, Link."

He sank onto the edge of the cushion, giving her his full attention.

"You didn't realize it when you first met her," Impa began, "but Zelda was a rather unhappy child. Between her father's neglect, the noble children's fear, and the staff discouraging her tomboyish ways, Zelda had been disappointed time and time again by many people. She internalized her loneliness, and in time she developed a strong, self-reliant personality. That is a good development, especially for someone destined to rule a kingdom, but Zelda also began to show less appealing traits like cynicism and a general lack of faith in people.

"That all changed," Impa added gently, "when she met you."

Link's eyebrows twitched as he tried to recall such traits in the captivating little girl he remembered.

"Your friendship was exactly what she needed, Link. You were so gentle and naive, unlike anyone she had ever known. More importantly, you were openly sincere, and you enjoyed spending time with the person she really was. Despite her strong personality, Zelda was as insecure as any little girl without friends. You helped restore her faith in people, and you nudged her back onto the path of a warmer, more compassionate person."

Impa leaned forward then, her gentle gaze boring into his.

"In many ways," she added softly, "you inspired Zelda to become a far greater person than even she thought possible."

Link considered this in silence, failing to find his voice beneath the painful knot in his throat.

 _But now she's gone,_ he wanted to say. _Gone to Din knows where, gone because of me._

A sharp pain tore into his heart, forcing tears to his eyes. Quickly he pressed his face into his hands, choking back an intense wave of grief.

Then he felt Impa's gentle hand on his back, calling him back from the brink of despair.

"Don't you give up," she soothed. "Zelda is not lost; she's merely incomplete. We need only restore the missing pieces."

Her words brought him little comfort, but he nodded and dried his eyes with his hands, forcing himself to take deep, calming breaths.

 _Like pieces to a puzzle_ , he reflected bitterly. _If only it were that simple._

* * *

xXx

* * *

Her sleep was fitful, restless, fragmented with glimpses, shards of her past. What she had resisted in waking hours she embraced in sleep, watching with an open mind and a yearning heart.

Her visions came upon her like countless grains of sand, swirling gusts of color swept in all directions by lost feelings and desires. Eventually they slowed and solidified, bringing a memory to life…

 _She stood in a dark_ _, empty stone chamber_ _, lit by a single candle in the far corner. She_ _looked_ _no older than twelve, and her appearance was hardly that of a princess._ _C_ _ropped, unruly hair topped her head and plain,_ _ill-fitting_ _clothes hun_ _g from her small frame._ _Her once_ _fair skin_ _had been_ _de_ _eply tanned_ _by b_ _oth_ _natural and magical means_ _. Startling red eyes_ _stared_ _through her stray locks of hair_ _, dulled by premature hardship and innocence lost._

 _Impa_ _—_ _her nurse, her guardian, her most loyal protector_ _—_ _loomed above her, strong,_ _stern, and_ _imposing._ _Yet_ _behind her crimson gaze Zelda recognized something urgent, even desperate._

 _And then she_ _attacked._

 _Her fist near collided with Zelda's face, but the girl dodged and twisted with feline agility, snapping back with her own_ _strike_ _. Impa feinted and swung her leg with impossible speed, toppling her student._

 _Zelda hit the ground hard, grunting with pain as she clutched her ribs. A bruise would form there_ _—one_ _of many. They were gifts, she told herself, marks of Impa's devotion, testaments to the training that would ensure her survival._

The vision broke apart, scattering once again into countless grains of color carried on the winds of inexplicable forces. They flew in all directions, twisting and spiraling until another memory was born.

 _She was older then,_ _a girl on the cusp of womanhood. She_ _knelt_ _in some other dark and unfamiliar_ _chamber_ _, illuminated by the cold glow of moonlight as she dressed herself_ _in worn strips of cloth_ _. Her movements were_ _slow_ _and methodical_ _,_ _a ritual performed time and time again_ _._

 _No longer could she cut her hair and call herself a boy. Her disguise had evolved as her body grew, forcing her to flatten her breasts and and pad her waist. Over the wrappings she wore dark, skin-tight clothes ideal for stealth, clothes bearing the single bleeding eye of the Sheikah. Her face she covered almost entirely, leaving only her altered crimson eyes to peer between unkempt locks of hair._

 _Having finished her transformation, she rose to her feet and emerged from her chamber, ready to face the world as a wiry young man shrouded in secret._

 _Silently she stepped out into the cold night air, lifting her eyes to the ever clouded sky. The land opened up below her, offering a near endless view from her perch near Goron City. A village lay near the foot of the mountain, its twinkling lights bright with the promise of good food and a soft bed—luxuries she could no longer afford._

 _She looked beyond the village, far into the distance, where a massive black spire rose above the destruction of her home. The ruins of Castletown lay nearby, and her eyes sought the tallest spire of the Temple of Time, miraculously still intact. Every night she looked toward it, whether it was visible or not, and whispered a desperate prayer to the gods._

" _Let him wake… Please let him wake…"_

Again the sands dispersed, quick and chaotic before they vanished like ash to the wind. Images flashed in a void of nothingness, voices she knew, faces she loved. Screams tore at her ears, smoke choked her breath, and the air reeked of rotting corpses. A man's laughter rose above the chaos, jarring her senses with an evil, deafening sound—

.

Zelda woke with a start, and in her groggy state she felt the strangest sensation of emotion without cause. Frustration and fear beat their way through her, forcing breathy, muted sobs from her throat, though she could not place why. All she could do was brush away her tears and take deep breaths until the feeling had passed.

 _Well… that was… unpleasant._

That she had dreamt something intense was obvious enough, but the dream's contents had faded from her mind the moment she woke—much to her relief. Considering what she had witnessed in the forest the previous day, she had no desire to experience more visions from her past.

 _I will embrace this life, uphold my duties, and find my own happiness. I will learn who I am and what I've accomplished, but the facts alone will suffice._

 _I don't need to relive it all,_ she added with a scowl, glancing up toward the heavens. _You hear me? No more visions._

Then she shifted beneath the covers, finding a more comfortable position to relax. A peaceful darkness still cloaked the room, and all was silent save the birds waking in the gardens below. A pale violet hue illuminated the windows, and Zelda gazed through them a while, letting her mind drift to the previous night.

While she did regret the cold, accusatory tone she had used, she could not bring herself to believe Link's words. Not entirely. She had always known she was born with a powerful Gift, but altering time? Sealing an immortal being within an alternate dimension? Such was the stuff of legends, of fairy tales… of bedtime stories for imaginative little boys.

 _And yet…_ Link did not strike her as the type to fabricate such grandiose claims. His life was challenging enough without them; why make things more complicated, especially after her accident?

Zelda sat up with a sigh, raking a hand through her tousled hair. She knew she would find no more rest that morning, so she pushed back the covers and slid out of bed, pulling on her robe as she moved into the drawing room. There she approached the floor-to-ceiling window and settled into her usual place, hidden behind the pale blue curtain.

The morning was crisp and clear, allowing Zelda to see beyond the rooftops of Castletown, all the way to Death Mountain's faded peak near the horizon. She gazed toward it a long time, pondering something Link had said the previous night.

" _If you wish to see the Stones, then you must visit Ruto and Darunia alone."_

Zelda didn't know whether he had been serious, but the more she considered the idea, the more it appealed to her. She loathed the prospect of another day confined within her chamber, away from inquisitive eyes, pretending that nothing had changed. A pile of books lay stacked on the nearby table, their pages filled with important faces and distant places. How could she focus on such a mundane task, after all she had learned? How could she put aside anything Link had told her, when so many questions remained unanswered?

And what better way to research those questions, than by discussing them with Ruto and Darunia themselves? Zelda had never denied herself the pursuit of knowledge. Amnesiac or not, that much would never change.

 _It's settled then. I leave today._

* * *

xXx

* * *

Later that morning, after sharing breakfast with Shayne—and carefully evading his questions regarding Link's absence—Zelda left her chamber and made her way to the opposite wing of the castle, where Link's study was located closer to the noble quarters.

Relieved to find no one other than servants roaming the corridors at that hour, Zelda paused before Link's door and drew a deep breath, summoning the courage make her presence known. Mere hours had passed since their tense exchange, after all, and Zelda feared his anger had not yet subsided.

 _You didn't come for his permission_ , she reminded herself. _This is a courtesy call._

Nodding to herself, Zelda lifted her hand to knock three times.

"Come in," came his muffled, idle reply.

Link looked up as she entered the room, and, judging by his expression, he had not been expecting her.

"Good morning," she said with a smile, closing the door behind her.

"Good morning," he echoed calmly, observing her with a hint of wariness. If any bitterness from the previous night remained, he did not show it.

She hesitated there by the door, unsure how to begin, then grew aware of a pleasant aroma wafting about the room. Her distraction must have showed, for Link gestured to the tray on his desk.

"Coffee?" he asked.

"Coffee," she murmured with intrigue. "Yes, I think I'll try some, since you offered. I can't recall the taste."

"That makes sense, I suppose," Link said, pouring her a cup as she sat across from him. "You were well past childhood when you started drinking it. Though I'm surprised you haven't tried some in the past week."

Zelda shrugged. "I'm told I prefer tea, so that's what the maids always serve me."

"That is true—and I also prefer tea," he said, placing the cup before her. "Some mornings, though, I need something stronger to start the day."

Zelda lifted the cup and paused, peering at him over the rim. "You mean after a certain amnesiac kept you up late to satisfy her curiosity?"

Link cracked a small, crooked smile. "I'd say you were dealing with more than mere curiosity."

Zelda breathed in the coffee's familiar scent, then lowered her cup with a sigh. "That's no excuse," she said, meeting his gaze. "I handled it rather poorly… and I am sorry if I offended you last night."

Link shook his head. "It's all right. I didn't react very well either. Don't give it another thought."

Zelda gave him a small, grateful smile, then raised her cup to her lips—only to choke a bit before she swallowed.

"Gods, that's bitter," she said, setting the cup aside. "Did I ever drink this?"

"Not black," Link replied, seemingly amused. "Sorry, I should have warned you."

"And the maids brought you no cream or sugar?"

"At my request. No sense in wasting it."

"Hmm." Zelda eyed him closely. "Or maybe you anticipated my coming and plotted this specifically to embarrass me."

She gave him a look of exaggerated suspicion, noticing the way Link's expression shifted, from uncertainty to surprise to amusement.

"Indeed I did," he replied, matching her darker tone. "That was but a taste of the deception that awaits you." He paused then, as though struck by a thought. "...No pun intended."

They shared a laugh at this, and Zelda felt the lingering tension ease.

"I'm sorry I've been so… skeptical about everything," she said, casting him a sheepish look. "I can't explain why I'm so guarded all the time. Have I always been this way?"

Link studied her a moment, considering the question.

"I try to remind myself that, from your perspective, you've only known me for about a week. I shouldn't expect you to take my word as truth, and I'm sorry I held you to that expectation. You have every right to seek the truth in your own way."

"Thank you," Zelda murmured, feeling a surge of appreciation. "Actually, that's why I've come to see you this morning. I wanted to leave on a warmer note."

His smile faded. "You're leaving?"

"Only for a few days," she assured him. "I've decided to take your advice and visit Goron City and Zora's Domain. Everything you've told me… it still seems so surreal. I need something to give it more substance in my mind, something besides random hallucinations. Are Darunia and Ruto aware of my amnesia?"

Link nodded, his face unreadable. "They are."

"I would like to see the Stones for myself, hear their parts of the story… I've also grown rather restless here, keeping a low profile and everything. I will return before the Council's deadline."

"I see," Link murmured, lowering his gaze as he fingered his cup.

Zelda watched his face, wishing he would speak his mind. "You don't approve."

"You don't need my approval to go. But I see no reason to deny you anyway."

"You're angry."

"I'm not angry."

"Disappointed, then."

He sighed, his blue eyes meeting hers. "I'm not happy to see you go, if that's what you mean."

His words roused an unfamiliar stir in Zelda, a jumbled mix of guilt, sympathy, uncertainty, and other nameless things. Before she could think of what to say, Link set his coffee aside and spoke again.

"I have only one request," he said, adopting a lackluster tone. "Take Shayne with you. He could use a real trip beyond the castle walls, and he would very much enjoy it."

"All right," Zelda agreed. "I would be happy to take him along. But I, um… I didn't give Darunia or Ruto much notice…"

Link waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. Darunia doesn't care much about protocol, and Ruto will be happy to receive you and Shayne regardless."

Zelda breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad to hear it. I remember her being rather… demanding as a child."

"Oh, she's still demanding, but she wouldn't fuss about the short notice, certainly not after your accident."

Zelda smiled. "I'll take your word for it."

Another awkward moment passed before she slowly rose to her feet.

"Well, I should go see that my things are packed—and arrange for Shayne's things as well."

Link nodded and lowered his gaze, busying himself with his paperwork. "You should ask Impa to accompany you as well."

"No," Zelda gently refused. "I've already deprived you of your son. I know he is a great comfort to you, and so is Impa. I would hate to leave you so alone."

Link stopped his shuffling and looked up at her, surprised by her words. She wanted to say more, to remind him that she had known such loneliness since she was a little girl, but the words didn't come. Instead she offered him a smile and turned for the door, pausing when her hand brushed the knob.

"You can use my chamber while I'm gone," she added, turning to look at him. "If it will help you sleep…"

"It won't," he said softly, his eyes still fixed on his paperwork. "But thank you."

Zelda nodded, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as she twisted the doorknob. "Well, then… farewell, Link."

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving him no time to respond.


	9. Reflections

AN: Finally, a new chapter! I'm a little nervous about it, specifically because the ending takes a sharp turn in the story, but I needed to shake things up between Link and Zelda, to create a situation that would progress her feelings in a shorter amount of time. Originally I had planned to keep Forgotten around 10 chapters, but now I'm thinking it will be closer to 15. I have parts of the next chapter already written, so hopefully the next update will happen this month.

Thanks so much for your patience, and for your feedback! :)

* * *

— REFLECTIONS —

* * *

Despite her eagerness to leave the castle, Zelda found their departure bittersweet.

Her anticipation was met with guilt as she watched Link say goodbye to their son. Kneeling before Shayne, he spoke only so the boy could hear, but judging by his expression Zelda imagined it was a repeat explanation as to why he must stay behind. Then he kissed Shayne's cheek and drew him close for one more hug—one the boy heartily returned.

Shayne waved to his father as long as he could see him standing with Impa by the castle gate. Zelda waved as well, wondering if her decision to leave the castle had been a hasty one.

 _I have one more week to spend as I please_ , she reminded herself. _Might as well enjoy myself before they bury me in lessons._

.

The journey to Zora's Domain was a half day's ride, not including the stop for lunch along Zora's River. Link had arranged for six guards to accompany them on their journey, which allowed them some range to explore. Shayne was delighted to be away from the castle, and he might have spent all afternoon there by the river—had his mother not coaxed him back to the carriage with talk of swimming pools and water slides at Zora's Domain.

They followed the river well into the foothills of Death Mountain Range, watching the gentle green slopes change to rocky cliffs. They closed in around the path, rising higher and higher until Zelda had to lean outside the window to see their peaks. Then, finally, the narrow passage widened to reveal a vast, shimmering lake surrounded by distant waterfalls. And there, at the end of a long bridge which crossed over the lake, stood the stone exterior of Zora's Domain.

It appeared deceptively small, as most of the Zora home was hidden inside the mountain or beneath the lake, but Zelda knew an impressive place of beauty and tranquility lay within its walls.

As their carriage drew closer, Zelda caught sight of a beautiful Zora waiting there by the main entrance—one she could only assume was Queen Ruto. Clothed in lavender silk and gossamer, complete with jewels and a diamond circlet, she was the image of a true queen, elegant and poised. For a moment Zelda couldn't help but stare, struggling to recognize the haughty young Zora she remembered.

Once Zelda and Shayne had stepped out of the carriage, Ruto approached them with open arms and a welcoming smile.

"Zelda, Shayne, welcome to our Domain. It's such a pleasure to see you." She spoke in a pleasant, almost musical voice, so different from the one Zelda remembered.

"Likewise, Ruto," she replied, offering a small, respectful bow. "Thank you for welcoming us on such short notice."

The Zora gave a dismissive wave, her lustrous scales shimmering with every move, then reached for Zelda's hands. Her touch was cool and moist, but Zelda merely smiled as Ruto studied her with a calm but soulful gaze.

"We have much to discuss," she whispered.

Her gaze then shifted to Shayne, who stared up at her with bright, curious eyes.

"Sweet little Shayne," she cooed, kneeling down to draw him into a hug. The boy politely returned it, but he giggled and squirmed when she kissed his cheek.

"Stop your squirming, little eel," she teased, pulling him closer to plant two more. "I am Queen here, and I will have my kisses."

"But you's cold, Auntie Ruto!" he laughed. "And slippery!"

"Oh? Well, I say you're too warm and dry!" Ruto tickled his side with a smirk, earning another giggle before before he retreated behind his mother's skirt.

"Fine then, don't give me a kiss," Ruto huffed, tilting her head up with a haughty frown.

Zelda smiled, recognizing the Ruto she remembered, and gently urged Shayne back toward the Zora. He hesitated but then reached for Ruto's webbed hand, kissing it in a bashful, clumsy imitation of a Hylian lord.

"My my, someone's becoming a little gentleman," Ruto laughed. "And such a tease! Next time you kiss my cheek, or I'll send you straight back home."

Shayne looked at her with a frown, unsure if she was serious. Ruto gave another _hmph_ but smiled as she rose to her feet.

"Where are Kaju and the children?" Zelda asked, remembering what she had learned about the royal Zora family. Ruto had ascended the throne almost nine years prior, after her father fell ill during the Retribution War. For six years she had ruled alone before she finally married her husband, Kaju. By the following year Ruto and Kaju had six children—something only the Zora could accomplish.

"Kaju is tending to some business at Lake Hylia, and the children are in their pools as usual. They will all join us for dinner, but I'm sure the children would be happy to play with Shayne until then—would you like to go swimming with your cousins, Shayne?"

Ruto bent down to address the boy, who gave a shy nod.

"Excellent. Jehto, see that Prince Shayne is escorted to the children's pools."

The Head Guard came forward and bowed, offering Shayne a friendly smile before she took his hand. Shayne glanced back at his mother, waving as Jehto led him deeper into the Domain. Zelda waved back with a smile, resisting a maternal urge to follow after him.

"Come, Zelda," Ruto then said, laying a hand on her arm. "Let's get reacquainted; shall we?"

.

She led them toward her private wing of the Domain, pointing out various paintings, vases, and other pieces her family had collected over the years. They were objects of great beauty and significance, but Zelda was far more interested in the Domain itself. She observed her surroundings with new eyes, remembering that the Domain was built from luminous stone. Mysterious blue flames lined the walls, but there was little need for torchlight, since the stone itself glowed in the darkness and reflected upon the Domain's many pools and channels. Ripples of soft white light danced along the walls and ceiling, which rose high above their heads and rested upon slender, luminescent columns.

Eventually they stepped back outside onto a large balcony, and Zelda slowed to a stop, admiring the view before her.

A wide river flowed through a green and rocky valley, its calm waters glistening in the late afternoon sun. Small clusters of trees grew near the grassy banks, and in the distance Zelda saw three narrow waterfalls pouring over the cliffside.

This was Zora's Fountain, a sacred place for ceremonies and prayer. It also served as the private residence of the Zora's patron deity, Lord Jabu-Jabu. Only those with special permission could enter the Fountain.

"It's beautiful," Zelda breathed. "So calming…"

"Yes," Ruto agreed as she settled into a recliner chair. "I try not to take it for granted. I've been forced away from it before, and that much is hard to forget."

Zelda turned to give her a look of interest. "Forced away?"

Ruto responded with a puzzled look, though it quickly changed to understanding.

"Oh, that was more than three years ago," she said with a dismissive wave. "There's no point in discussing it now. Our Domain has been peaceful since I married Kaju.

"Come and sit down, Zelda," she added, patting the chair next to her. "Tell me how you're handling everything. I must admit I was surprised to receive your request to visit, since it's only been a matter of days since you woke…"

"Oh, yes…" Zelda went to sit beside Ruto, glancing at the wine bottle on the table between them. "I've been… restless. A week from now I'll be quite busy learning how to live my own life, so I wanted to enjoy a little holiday while I still can."

She shifted in her chair to face the Zora, pretending to miss her concerned gaze.

"Ruto, I must say, you are so lovely—I could hardly believe my eyes when I first saw you! So elegant and composed… I know this is strange for you to hear, but I just had to say something."

"Well, thank you, Zelda…" Ruto stammered, managing a smile. "That's high praise coming from you. You've always been the image of beauty and poise."

Zelda shrugged. "I hope that's still true."

"Is it difficult for you to see me all grown up like this?"

"It's a little… jarring. But I'm all right. I'm adjusting."

Ruto nodded and reached for the wine, popping the cork to pour them each a glass. "Not nearly as jarring as the moment you woke with amnesia, I'm sure."

"That was… quite overwhelming, yes," Zelda admitted. "But I have a wonderful son and a kind husband… that's hardly anything to complain about. I'm sure I'll find happiness in my new life."

She reached for her glass and took a drink, aware of Ruto's intense gaze.

"I hope that's true," the Zora said softly. "So what you do think of him?"

Zelda coughed, still unused to the bitterness of wine. "Of Link?"

"Yes, of Link!" Ruto laughed. "Who else?"

"Well… He's been very courteous and kind… and patient. It's been a little awkward, naturally… but he's been very good to me."

"Yes, of course he is," Ruto smiled. "But you haven't answered my question. What do you _think_ of him? Are you attracted to him? Do you think you could love him?"

Zelda stared down at her glass, feeling her face heat at the thought of such things. "I think I could be happy with him," she answered carefully. "Which is more than most prin—than most queens can say."

"Do you trust him?"

Zelda looked at her with surprise. "...I don't _distrust_ him. I just need more time, Ruto. It's too early to know exactly how I feel about him."

"Of course." Ruto drew closer then, resting a hand on Zelda's arm. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to pressure you. But I feel a need to reassure you—to do away with any doubts you might have about him. I know you need more time to develop your own feelings, but you can trust him. He has been devoted to you since you met as children. He has sacrificed for you, and he would die for you."

Zelda stared at her, then swallowed and looked away. _For the Zelda I_ was _, perhaps._

"Tell me about our marriage," she murmured. "Our… relationship."

Ruto looked intrigued. "Where should I begin?"

"Anywhere. I know so little. Link told me about our courtship—how it was initially forbidden, and that he more or less saved me from a miserable marriage. I know the Retribution War took place shortly after… and that we married after it ended. There are a lot of gaps between then and now, and… I feel as if I'm missing something important. I also don't understand why three years passed before Shayne was born. Surely we were pressured to have a child…"

"You were," Ruto sighed. "And Din knows you tried. But you had trouble conceiving a child. That struggle put a strain on your marriage—not between you and Link, but between you and your court, even your council. Then, when you finally did get pregnant, you had far worse problems than royal obligation."

Zelda studied her with concern. "What problems?"

Ruto met her gaze with solemn, knowing eyes. "You really have no idea?"

Zelda shook her head. "I've read about the wars, and my failed engagement with Ashton of Vandelius. But it was all rather vague... There's so much more I want to know."

Ruto scoffed. "That so-called documentation wouldn't give you the full story. I'm sure Impa wants you to discuss those things with Link—when you're ready, of course. Ask me all the questions you like, but there are some I cannot answer, not without Link."

Zelda sighed and looked out toward the waterfalls, suppressing her frustration. "I suppose that's only fair."

"Have you taken steps to help regain your memories? Impa has some meditation exercises you can try…"

"I know," Zelda murmured. "I've agreed to try them."

Through the corner of her eye she saw Ruto tilt her head with concern.

"You seem reluctant," the Zora said. "Why?"

Zelda shrugged. "I'm not sure I'll be able to remember anything is all."

"You will," Ruto assured her with a smile. "I've known you long enough to say there's nothing you can't do, once you've set your mind to it."

Zelda forced a smile in return, letting it wither as she sipped her wine.

 _And if my heart isn't in it? What then?_

* * *

xXx

* * *

Zelda and Ruto spent the remainder of the afternoon reminiscing about their childhood and laughing over funny anecdotes from both their married lives. By the time supper was served, Zelda was glad to be in higher spirits.

Despite the formal, near ostentatious design of the royal dining chamber, their dinner proved to be a merry gathering—mostly due to Kaju's cheerful, even playful demeanor. The Zora children were all very young and prone to antagonism, but Kaju kept them distracted with jokes and games throughout the meal. Zelda could see that Ruto was clearly the more reserved spouse, as she contributed little to the silliness, but her laughter came easily, and even Zelda caught the happy gleam in her eyes. Shayne also laughed and played along, and Zelda's thoughts inevitably turned to her own family.

 _Were we like this before my accident?_ A quiet hope fluttered in her chest as she recalled the way Link had told Shayne's bedtime story. ... _Could we still be?_

Two hours flew by, and only once their dessert plates were cleared away did Shayne collapse onto the table, his head cradled against his arm.

"Mama, I'm sleepy," he mumbled into his elbow, causing the Zora children to laugh until Ruto hushed them with a frown.

"I can see that," Zelda said as she rose from her seat. Attendants moved to assist her, but she kindly waved them off and lifted Shayne up into her arms. He wrapped his arms around her neck and lay his head on her shoulder, seemingly oblivious to the others in the room.

"It seems we'll have to retire early," Zelda said, giving Ruto and Kaju an apologetic smile. "Thank you for the delicious meal."

"Of course," Ruto beamed as she rose from her chair. "Come, I'll show you to your room myself."

Once they had all bid each other goodnight, Ruto left the children in Kaju's care and led Zelda out of the dining chamber toward the guest quarters.

"Ruto, could we possibly meet again after I've tucked him in?" Zelda asked when they reached the chamber assigned to her and Shayne. "There's something I'd like to ask you."

"Certainly," Ruto replied. "Kaju and I won't retire for a few hours yet. But remember, I won't answer any questions that Link should answer himself."

"Oh, I know—it's nothing like that."

Ruto smiled. "All right. I'll be waiting on the balcony overlooking the Fountain."

"Thank you, it shouldn't take long."

Ruto then kissed Shayne goodnight, smiling when he mumbled something incoherent, and left to tend to her own children.

.

Their chamber was the grandest of the guest suites, having two attached bedrooms, a large bathroom, and a spacious sitting area with a fireplace—a feature the aquatic Zoras included specifically for their guests. Warm flames greeted Zelda as she stepped inside, and she noticed the curtains had been drawn to create a peaceful nighttime ambiance for Shayne.

The boy's sleepiness vanished once Zelda began helping him prepare for bed, however, and she soon realized why.

"Lookit, Mama!" Shayne scurried over to his bed and climbed into it, laughing as it gurgled and swayed. "It's a waterbed! Uncle Kaju said Zoras sleep in the water. Can I sleep in the water, Mama?"

Carefully Zelda sank onto the edge of his bed, smiling at the strange but familiar sensation. "No, that would not be comfortable, silly."

"Why?"

"Because your fingers and toes would wrinkle like little prunes," she teased, lifting the covers so he could crawl under them.

"But they's not wrinkley, Mama," he objected, showing her his smooth fingertips. Zelda took his hands and kissed them.

"Little Hylian boys sleep in beds—sometimes even waterbeds," she declared, tucking the covers around him. "But not in water. You can play in the water some more tomorrow when we go exploring with Auntie Ruto and the other children. Does that sound like fun?"

Shayne nodded against his pillow, holding his Deku Scrub toy close. "Yeah."

"Good," Zelda smiled and leaned in to kiss his forehead.

"When we go see Uncle Darunia?" he asked.

"After tomorrow we'll leave for Goron City."

"Papa too?"

Zelda's smile faded. "No, sweetie. Papa will see us when we go home."

Shayne frowned. "Why he not come too?"

"He has work to do, remember? Lots of people need his help with grown up things. He's working very hard so we can have fun together."

"Oh," the boy mumbled, lowering his gaze as he fingered Scrub's leafy head. It was not the first time Shayne had asked about Link that day, and Zelda wondered if he had ever traveled without his father.

"Maybe we'll go home a little early and surprise him," she suggested, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. "Would you like that?"

Shayne nodded eagerly, peering up at her with his deep blue eyes—so much like his father's.

"We'll talk more about that tomorrow," Zelda soothed. "Right now you need to sleep. Remember, I'll be in the room right through that door, okay?" Zelda gestured to the open doorway.

Again the boy nodded.

"All right. Now, close your eyes…"

Shayne did as she asked, and Zelda began to sing a lullaby—the same one Impa had sung for her when she was a small child. It had always helped calm Zelda's mind, and it seemed to have a similar effect on Shayne. Within minutes he had drifted off, no doubt exhausted from a day of travel and play.

Remembering that she had asked Ruto to meet her, Zelda quietly left their suite and headed to the balcony where they had lounged earlier that day. Ruto stood outside as promised, her silk robes swaying in the evening breeze. The sun was low in the rosy tinted sky, casting long shadows over the Fountain below.

"There you are," Ruto said, turning to Zelda with a smile. "I hope the waterbed didn't excite him too much."

"I worried about that too," Zelda said with a laugh, "but a lullaby put him right to sleep."

She moved to stand beside Ruto, resting her elbows on the balcony rail. "Tell me, Ruto, has Shayne ever traveled anywhere without me or Link?"

The Zora gave a delicate shrug. "As far as I know the three of you have always traveled together, but that's bound to change as he gets older."

"I fear I've been a little premature," Zelda murmured. "He misses his father already."

Ruto placed a hand on her shoulder. "He'll adjust; don't worry. I'm sure he'll forget his homesickness when he's having fun tomorrow."

"I hope you're right."

"So what is it you wanted to ask me about?"

"Oh…" Zelda turned to face her. "I was hoping you could show me the Sacred Stone of Water, but I understand if it should wait until tomorrow."

Ruto blinked, then gave a small laugh. "Nonsense, of course I can show you. May I ask why?"

"Oh, um…" Nervously Zelda tucked some hair behind her ear. "Link mentioned the Stones and their… importance. Since I'm here I figured I would take a closer look."

Ruto gave her a thoughtful, almost suspicious look, and Zelda braced herself for an interrogation.

But the Zora merely smiled. "Come," she said, "it's in my chamber."

As they walked Ruto told Zelda about the Stone's purpose as an engagement heirloom which had been passed down through each generation of the royal family for centuries.

"Technically the Stone is Kaju's now," she added, "but he only wears it to our anniversary celebration. It's far too precious to wear regularly."

"So you gave it to him when you proposed?" Zelda asked, glad to steer the conversation away from herself and Link.

"Actually, he proposed to me," Ruto said with a smile, "and I gave him the Stone when I accepted. It was an unorthodox gesture, but he broke tradition to show how much he wanted me. Even I was surprised. Kaju has always been adamant about following our laws and traditions to the letter—the proposal was his most notable exception. My people have always approved of him as a suitor, so our union was warmly received."

Zelda lowered her gaze, suddenly curious about the details of her own engagement. _Another question for Link, I'm sure._

Once they entered the suite Ruto shared with Kaju, the Zora moved to retrieve a diamond studded chest from a compartment inside Kaju's wardrobe. Setting it on a nearby table, she then unlocked the chest and presented the Stone—which was not one but three brilliant sapphires embedded in a gold setting.

"It's beautiful," Zelda murmured, admiring the jewel's floral design. In truth, however, she had expected something more. The Stone was impressive, but it bore no extraordinary features, nothing to suggest the magical properties Link had described.

"Here, take it," Ruto urged, placing the Stone in her hands. Zelda started, as though shocked by some small, invisible spark. The jewel appeared unchanged, but Zelda found she could _feel_ the magic within it—a small, pulsing warmth she likened to a heartbeat.

"I almost lost it, you know," Ruto murmured. "I always carried it with me as a child. It helped me feel closer to my mother—she died when I was quite young."

Zelda nodded solemnly. "I remember the funeral. "How did you lose it, if I may ask?"

Ruto smiled sheepishly. "Lord Jabu-Jabu swallowed it by mistake when I was feeding him one day. He also swallowed me when I went to retrieve it, and I was 'missing' for so long that my father began to worry. He knew where to look for me, but Jabu-Jabu refused to let any guards search inside him. Link eventually showed up at our Domain in search of the Stone, and only he was permitted to follow after me.

"That's how I first met Link—there inside Jabu-Jabu's belly," Ruto admitted with a smile. "He helped me find the Stone and then cleared away a dark infection we discovered there—one planted by Ganondorf himself."

Zelda frowned, remembering what Link had told her about the evil Gerudo king—and the frightening visions she had seen.

Ruto seemed oblivious to Zelda's momentary distraction.

"I was pretty smitten with Link by the time we left Jabu-Jabu," she laughed. "Through his _mouth_ , mind you; don't go making nasty assumptions. Link told me he needed the Stone to complete his mission, and so I gave it to him. In those days I genuinely believed we would marry one day, but obviously it wasn't a real betrothal. My interest strayed back to my own kind as I grew older, thank goodness."

Zelda shook her head, searching Ruto's smiling face. "That all sounds so… bizarre," she said carefully, afraid she might offend the Zora queen.

"Oh, it was," Ruto scoffed. "Not to mention embarrassing. Link and I still laugh about it sometimes."

"I'd like an audience with Lord Jabu-Jabu before I leave," Zelda said, fitting the Stone back into its velvet padded slot inside the chest. "I'd be curious to hear his side of the story."

"Always seeking the facts," Ruto sighed. "Lord Jabu-Jabu can attest to my claims, I assure you."

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that…"

"You're having trouble believing Link." Ruto said, lifting her eyes to Zelda's. "About the Imprisoning War?"

Zelda hesitated, glancing down to smooth a nonexistent wrinkle. "I can't help being skeptical," she confessed. "It's all so… so…"

"Incredible," Ruto finished. "Yes. But it is the truth—one even Kaju cannot know."

She placed the chest back inside the wardrobe and silently crossed the room, pausing before a large window overlooking the Fountain. Zelda moved to stand beside her, waiting for her to elaborate.

"I remember it all, Zelda," she said quietly. "Far more than Link does. You and I had to live through those horrid long years, waiting for him to wake and take up the Sword. I hadn't been awakened as a Sage during that time, and I didn't know Link would come to defeat Ganondorf. I had less hope than you did."

She turned to face Zelda, giving her a knowing smile. "Of course, I knew you as Sheik then—some mysterious young Sheikah who insisted on watching over me."

Zelda furrowed her brow. "I never told you who I was?"

"No, you couldn't tell anyone anything—except Impa, of course. Secrecy was your greatest protection—revealing your true identity would have endangered both of us. I can only imagine how difficult it was for you, masquerading alone in the shadows all those years…"

Ruto sighed and trailed off, searching Zelda's face for some emotion, some sign that she hadn't forgotten the struggles they once shared.

"If Link's word isn't enough," she said, "take mine as well. I remember the attacks, how we barely held the Domain from Ganondorf's forces. It was a five year siege… until he cursed the Domain itself and froze the water solid. So many of my people died, trapped here in the ice… So many faces, frozen in horror…"

Zelda reached for Ruto's shoulder, meaning to break her sorrowful trance, but the Zora caught her fingers and gave them a gentle squeeze.

"I would have died there too," she whispered, "if you hadn't saved me. You pulled me into the portal to Hylia before the ice could trap me."

Zelda regarded her with surprise, unsure what to say. Then Ruto sighed and released her hand.

"That past has been rewritten," she said, "but I am still grateful to you. And to Link. Everything he told you is true; you don't need stones and swords to prove it. You only need to trust him. Trust _us_ —the other Sages and me. Our experience has bound us in ways I never imagined, and I believe that bond is more powerful than your amnesia."

Again Zelda was silent, unable to find a response.

"I know this is a lot to take in," Ruto soothed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Take all the time you need. We can discuss it more tomorrow, if you like—unless you'd like to talk more now?"

Zelda shook her head. "No… I could use some time alone, I think."

"All right, but feel free to come find me if you change your mind."

"I know. Thank you."

Ruto gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Sleep well, Zelda. I'll see you at breakfast if not sooner."

Zelda bid her goodnight and left the chamber in a daze, hoping that solitude would provide some much needed clarity, anything to help unravel her tangled mess of feelings.

* * *

xXx

* * *

 _He lay in her arms, clutching her cloak as he drew heavy, labored breaths. His life was draining, bleeding out around the sword embedded in his chest. Dark, arterial lines marred face like a deadly toxin coursing through his veins. Something evil held him with an unyielding grip, something he could no longer fight._

" _Link…"_

 _Her own voice echoed about the blurry, distorted scene—a feeble sound, choked with despair. His eyes locked with hers, and tears streaked his face as he brought a trembling, bloodied hand to her cheek…_

Zelda woke with a soft cry, seized with a flood of terror and loss. For several minutes she lay there, shaking with sobs, unable to stop the strange, unbidden storm of emotions.

As her tears began to subside, Zelda grew aware of a growing pain in her lower abdomen. She sat up with a whimper, fighting a wave of panic as she moved the covers aside and carefully left the bed. Her body screamed and shook in protest, and Zelda gasped when a sharper, more intense pain nearly brought her to her knees.

Nausea slowed her already labored steps as she staggered toward the bathroom, but she managed to shut the door behind her without waking Shayne. Inside she slid to the floor, struggling to breathe between each searing wave of pain.

Somewhere beneath her panic she considered calling to Shayne for help, but the notion faded when she felt something wet on her fingers. Weakly she lifted her hand and strained to see in the darkness, but it was the smell that struck her. A familiar, metallic smell.

 _Blood._

Shock jarred her senses, halting her breath until she slumped against the door in merciful oblivion.


	10. Burdens

AN: So sorry I wasn't able to update sooner as I'd hoped! I was sick with the flu for almost two weeks, and then the last scene ended up being a nightmare to edit. I'm nervous about this chapter because it addresses such complicated issues, but I certainly can't gloss over such things in a story like this.

Thank you all for your wonderful reviews; your support means so much to me. :)

* * *

— BURDENS —

* * *

Link woke with a start, momentarily confused to find himself in his armchair by the now darkened fireplace. Only the weak glow of embers remained, allowing an unpleasant chill to settle upon the room. Ordinarily the servants rekindled the flames early each morning while he slept in the other room, but Link had recently asked them not to bother. He slept so poorly each night since Zelda's accident, woken by even the slightest disturbance. The servants were trained to be silent as mice, but none of them could escape their king's heightened awareness. He would then lie awake for hours, plagued by relentless insomnia.

Because the servants no longer entered his chamber at night, Link had developed a habit of falling asleep in his chair by the fire. His bed was too large, too empty… He felt more relaxed in the drawing room, where he would distract himself with a book until exhaustion overcame him. He never woke feeling properly rested, but it was better than no sleep at all.

Rubbing the weariness from his face, Link pulled a blanket from his shoulders and rose to revive the fire. A glance toward the clock on the mantel told him dawn was less than two hours away, which meant any further attempt to rest would be pointless.

 _The sooner you start the day,_ he reminded himself, _the sooner you can end it._

With that gloomy thought he headed into the bathroom, trying to decide if he should wake up with another cold shower or indulge in a hot one. His indulgences were so few and far between those days…

Still, the thought barely appealed to him, and for a long while he stood before the massive vanity mirror, trying to place why he felt so unsettled.

 _A dream_ , he recalled with a twinge of unease.

He had experienced a series of chaotic flashes, some from memory, some fabricated. He relived so many goodbyes, so many times they had parted ways, each time struggling with renewed feelings of frustration and loss. The images had been distorted, accompanied by whispers and pleas… She would vanish from his arms, fade in the distance before he could reach her, call his name but fail to appear… He had called back to her again and again, whirling about as he tried to find her.

" _Where are you?"_ he had shouted to the void. _"Where did you go?"_

And then she was there, looking back at him with a warm, knowing smile. _Her_ smile. Her eyes held that familiar light, her awareness of the indescribable bond they shared. She was just as he remembered her, just as she was supposed to be. Overcome with relief, he had reached out to touch her soft, pale cheek…

But her face fell away like a mask, clattering to the floor at his feet.

Link closed his eyes and drew a sharp breath, wishing he hadn't recalled the disturbing scene. The dream had ended there, with the image of Zelda's face lying flat on the ground, staring up at him in a frozen, haunting gaze.

Eager to shake the dream from his mind, Link turned on the faucet and splashed cold water against his face, forcing himself to take deep, calming breaths. His eyes strayed to his reflection, settling on the jagged scar partly hidden beneath his robe. Slowly he lifted a hand to touch it, tracing the pale, raised mark across his heart. Memories filled his mind with abrupt force, as did the echoes of Zelda's frantic, determined voice.

" _No, I won't lose you!"_

" _I can save you—I_ will _save you!"_

Link turned away from the mirror, steeling himself against the stab of anguish those memories brought. Refusing to let himself be dragged over the brink of despair, he left the bathroom and grabbed a simple change of clothes, deciding he needed a more challenging activity that morning. Perhaps swordplay or a long ride through the countryside—

A sudden jolt disrupted his thoughts, followed by a wave of such intense emotion that Link dropped his clothes and caught the back of a chair to steady himself. Immediately he recognized the source.

 _Zelda._

Since the day she woke without her memories, Link had summoned a barrier to stifle their empathic bond. Neither could sense each other's emotions, and if Zelda could still sense his presence, Link doubted she would recognize it.

And yet, in that fleeting moment, Zelda's emotions had broken through. The feeling faded as quickly as it came, but it was more than enough to alarm him.

 _Zelda!_ he called to her, reaching out all the way to Zora's Domain. _Zelda, can you hear me?_

But he felt no response. Even her presence seemed to fade from his mind.

So he thrust the barrier aside, letting their bond flow as freely as it had before Zelda's accident. Only then could he sense whether she was conscious or not.

Realizing she had indeed lost consciousness, Link threw on his clothes and drew a plain wooden chest from his bureau, opening it with a magic spell. Inside lay the Ocarina of Time, which he pocketed as he fled the room.

Down the corridor he ran, stopping only when he reached Impa's chamber.

"Impa!" he called, pounding his fist against the heavy door. The noise alerted some guards posted farther down the hall, but Link ignored them. "Impa!"

Her door opened moments later, and Link pushed his way inside before she had a chance to speak, leaving the guards to wait in the corridor.

"Something's happened to Zelda," he blurted out, failing to hide his panic.

The Sheikah gave him a rare look of shock. "How do you—"

"I felt her, Impa— _through_ our barrier. I felt this… this terrible wave of shock and confusion and fear, all at once…" Link shook his head and retrieved the Ocarina from his pocket "I have to go to her."

Impa stared at him, her crimson eyes filled with concern.

"Then go," she said. "I'll make an excuse for you."

"Thank you," he breathed. "I… I'll return as soon as I can—"

"I know. Go take care of her."

Link brought the Ocarina to his lips, forcing himself to hold several long, soothing notes before he vanished in a haze of blue light.

He rematerialized on a grassy island surrounded by a small but beautiful lake. Its calm, clear waters shone in the moonlight and mirrored the open sky, dusted in starlight.

Lake Hylia was home to the Zoras' sacred underwater temple, among other things, but for Link and Zelda it had always been another instant getaway, much like the Lost Woods. The lack of total privacy posed some risk, but they had often retreated there on hot summer nights, to cool off in the water or lay back and admire the stars…

Pushing those painful memories from his mind, Link kicked off his shoes and ran to the water's edge, plunging into the cold lake. Hurriedly he swam toward the distant shore, then paused for a deep breath before he dove beneath the surface.

Deeper and deeper he swam, down toward the hidden portal to Zora's Domain. He had barely passed through its worn archway when a magical force caught hold and carried him through to the other side. A brilliant light filled his vision, and seconds later he was floating in one of the Domain's many pools.

Quickly he pushed up off the stone floor and broke the water's surface, throwing back his head to gasp for air. Several Zora guards quickly surrounded the pool with their spears held ready, lowering them when they recognized their intruder.

"Your Majesty," one of the guards greeted him. "This is indeed unexpected—"

"Forgive my intrusion," Link cut him off, gliding to the shallow edge of the pool and stepping out of the water. "But this is urgent. I must see Zelda—immediately."

"But, my Lord, she is asleep in her chamber—"

"I have reason to doubt that."

Ignoring the Zoras' startled expressions, Link headed for the nearest stairway without an escort, forcing the guards to hurry after him. Having visited Zora's Domain numerous times, he knew where to to find the guest quarters.

He passed several more guards along the way, stopping only to address the two Ruto had posted outside Zelda's room. Both of them were puzzled by his urgency.

"My Lord, I am certain she is resting peacefully," one of them assured him. "We've heard no commotion…"

"I need to confirm that for myself," Link answered as patiently as he could manage. "Please wait here."

Once inside, he hurried over to Zelda's bedroom door and opened it, knowing she was still unconscious. Moonlight poured through the far window, helping his eyes adjust as he looked toward her empty bed. Instinctively he moved toward the bathroom, fear and uncertainty knotting in his chest—

Then a cool hand caught his, stopping him short, and he turned to see Ruto's troubled face looking back at him.

"Link," she greeted him in a whisper, "I think it's best if I check on her, given the circumstances…"

He stared at her, momentarily puzzled by her suggestion. In his anxiety he had failed to remember that, from Zelda's new perspective, he was violating her privacy.

The realization stung, so strongly that he failed to summon a reply.

"Why don't you go wait by the fire," Ruto suggested gently, noticing his soaked appearance.

Reluctantly he returned to the other room and paced before the fire, too nervous to appreciate its warmth. A few minutes passed before Ruto joined him, looking thoroughly unsettled.

"She's on the floor in the bathroom, unconscious," she said in a quiet, controlled tone. "And she…" Ruto sighed and shook her head, unable to soften the blow. "Link, there's blood on the back of her gown."

Her words struck hard and cold, forcing the air from his lungs. A wave of dizziness overwhelmed him, and Link found himself clutching the mantle, struggling to breathe as the blood pounded in his ears.

"Link," Ruto's voice sounded strange and far away, growing suddenly clear when her hand touched his back. "Did she…"

He shook his head, too overcome to speak. The shock was still too raw, too intense to even acknowledge her question.

"...I'll have one of my guards move Zelda to another room, all right? We can't let Shayne see her like that…"

"I will carry her," Link managed to say, his voice little more than a whisper.

"Link, you should sit down a moment—"

But he pushed past her and reentered the bedroom, stopping dead when he saw Zelda lying there on the bathroom floor. Ruto had covered her with a blanket and placed a pillow under her head, but the sight disturbed him nonetheless.

Carefully he knelt beside Zelda and slid his arms beneath her, watching her face as he lifted her up off the floor. She remained limp in his arms, and silently he carried her out of the room, trying to forget the image of her blood smeared across the tiles.

Guards held the chamber doors open for him, gesturing to another open room across the hall.

"That's too close," he refused, carrying Zelda farther down the corridor. "I don't want Shayne to hear her."

Ruto soon appeared at his side, leading him to a smaller, vacant suite and instructing him to lay Zelda in the bathtub. Then she ushered him back out into the hall, just as a row of female attendants entered the chamber behind them.

"My attendants will take care of her now," she assured him. "And I've assigned a nursemaid to look after Shayne in case he wakes. You need to change into something warm and dry before you catch a cold. A set of clothes has been laid out for you in the other chamber, in the spare bedroom. You should stay there and rest—I'll let you know when she wakes."

Link hesitated, reluctant as always to distance himself from Zelda, especially in her condition.

"Did she have… other symptoms," he asked Ruto, his voice so hushed that she drew closer to listen. "Dizziness… nausea, fatigue… a nosebleed?"

She shook her head, studying him with renewed sorrow. "She was fine, as far as I could tell. She seemed to enjoy herself at dinner… and she was looking forward to our plans for tomorrow. Does that… mean anything?"

"...Difficult to say," he whispered. "It's... never consistent."

Ruto sighed and gently rubbed his shoulder. "Link, you're soaked and shivering. Let me take care of Zelda while you look after yourself, all right?"

Knowing there was little else he could do, Link forced himself to walk down the hall, back to the chamber Shayne still occupied. He felt strangely numb, suspended in a fragile state of detachment. He knew a storm still festered underneath, waiting for his control to slip.

Inside the chamber he noticed several attendants in Zelda's bedroom, changing the sheets and cleaning the bathroom. They moved with silent discretion, but the door to Shayne's room had been closed as an extra precaution. Link crossed the room and opened it a crack, just enough to see Shayne's face half hidden against his pillow. He slept peacefully with Scrub in his arms, oblivious to all that had transpired outside his bedroom.

Drawing some comfort in that image, Link closed the door and went to heed Ruto's request, dreading the heavy, mournful silence that awaited him.

* * *

xXx

* * *

Zelda woke to find herself in a darkened room, illuminated by soft candlelight. She had barely registered her surroundings, however, when an intense spasm tore through her abdomen, forcing a gasp from her throat.

"My Queen, she is awake…"

Unfamiliar voices drifted from the shadows, falling to hushed whispers as Ruto approached Zelda's bedside.

"What's happening to me?" Zelda stammered, her voice a breathless croak. "Why am I… What is this?"

"Shh," Ruto soothed, smoothing Zelda's hair away from her sweaty face. "You're going through something all Hylian woman must endure… Lord Maddox will explain everything when he arrives. I know it hurts, but you're going to be all right."

"Ruto, the pain…" Zelda strained to form coherent sentences. "Help me…"

The Zora's concerned expression deepened into worry.

"I'm so sorry, Zelda. We've given you medicine for the pain, but clearly it isn't helping… My physicians aren't prepared to give you something stronger without Lord Maddox present, and I'm not prepared to force them. I've sent my fastest rider to Hyrule Castle—"

"That will take hours," Zelda whispered, unable to bear the thought.

"My attendants are preparing a hot compress for you. That should help alleviate the pain—" Ruto paused suddenly, distracted by something Zelda could not see.

"Zelda, dear," she then said, "there is something I must take care of—it will only take a moment."

"Wha—?" Weakly Zelda grabbed for Ruto's hand, but the Zora had already slipped away.

"I'll be right back; I promise…"

Zelda waited for what felt like an eternity, writhing against the sheets as the pain intensified. She called for Ruto, for the attendants, even the gods themselves—anyone who might free her from whatever burning, unceasing agony clawed at her insides.

Then Ruto was back at her bedside, gazing down at her with her same sympathetic eyes. Yet Zelda saw something else in her face that time, something almost hopeful.

"Zelda," Ruto said gently, taking her hand and stroking her fingers. "This may be a little hard to believe, but Link is here… He wants to help you."

Zelda blinked, so baffled by this news that for the briefest moment she almost forgot her pain.

"Link…?"

Ruto nodded. "He says he can ease your pain with magic, but he must touch you directly, like this…" She reached under the covers, and Zelda stiffened when she felt the Zora's cold touch on her abdomen. Quickly Ruto withdrew her hand.

"Will you let him?"

Zelda closed her eyes and nodded. At that point she would have allowed anything for some measure of relief.

Again Ruto left the room, and Zelda struggled to wait as quietly as possible, clutching the sheets and turning her head from side to side.

Then a warm hand touched hers, easing her grip on the covers, and Zelda opened her eyes to see Link standing over her. He was dressed in fine Zora robes, and his hair was damp, but he offered no explanation. He merely sank into a chair at her bedside, his tired face etched with sorrow.

"Ruto explained what I must do?" he asked her softly.

Zelda nodded, and, remembering Ruto's demonstration, tucked her arms beneath the covers, anxious for him to begin. The Zoras had removed her nightgown and wrapped her lower body in cloth, leaving her half naked beneath the covers, but Zelda was well past any concern for modesty.

For the next few seconds she managed to focus on something other than her pain—the sound of her heavy, erratic breaths, and the feel of Link's hands reaching under the covers. Tense with anticipation, she started when he touched her, whimpering when she felt herself go rigid. His hand was gentle and warm, but his touch—a man's touch—was still quite unfamiliar.

"Try to relax," she heard his soothing voice. "It will feel better soon."

Then his hands grew warmer and warmer, rising in temperature until they were so hot they should have blistered her skin. On the contrary, Zelda found herself overcome with incredible, near instant relief. The magic pulsed deep within her, calming every spasm and soothing away the constant, burning pain until only a dull ache remained.

Unbidden emotions swelled in her chest, and Zelda felt a sudden, hysterical urge to laugh and cry. The feeling shifted to alarm, however, when Link began to withdraw one of his hands. Quickly she snatched his wrist.

"Don't stop," she choked. "Please…"

"I won't," he assured her. "Not unless you tell me to—or until you can rest."

Zelda nodded and released his wrist, willing herself to relax as Link's hand left the covers and moved to her face, brushing away a tear that slid down toward her ear. His fingers lingered there, stroking the curve of her cheek, and Zelda opened her eyes to meet his gentle gaze. Countless questions still crowded the recesses of her mind, but in that moment she felt no need to speak them. For the first time that night, since she woke in pain and distress, Zelda could believe she would be all right.

"Thank you…" she whispered.

"You don't need to thank me," Link murmured, slipping his hand back under the covers. "It's the least I can do. Besides, you've done the same for me countless times. This technique is your invention."

Zelda furrowed her brow. "Mine…?"

Link nodded. "Once you even used it to save my life."

Zelda binked, certain she had misheard him. A groggy haze began to settle in her mind, slowing her thoughts and dulling her senses.

"I've saved… your life?"

His eyes met hers, unblinking and intense. "You have saved my life many times."

She gazed back at him, awed by this prospect. "Tell me…"

Link drew a deep breath and glanced upward, searching his thoughts.

"During the Retribution War," he began, "I was tasked with building a military settlement high in the northern mountains, close to the border with Tar Alem. One night I led a small team to survey the area, and three of my men… turned on me. They meant to kill me, and my loyal soldiers died trying to defend me."

Zelda's sleepiness faded beneath a jolt of shock. "What…?"

"There was a conspiracy against me at the time," Link explained. "Some thought me a threat to Hylian society—to our prosperity, even. It was a very quiet movement, very secret. I had no idea how real it was until I was attacked that night."

"How… did you survive?"

Link met her curious gaze, his expression unreadable. "My loyal soldiers brought down two of the traitors, and I managed to kill the last one standing. But I had already taken serious injuries. I collapsed in the snow, and I would have died there… if not for you."

"Me…?"

"You rescued me," he said softly. "You were there at the camp that same night. You've always had the gift of Foresight, and you saw the attack in a dream. You sensed something was wrong, so you ventured out to find me."

Zelda listened with keen interest, amazed that she had done such a thing.

"By myself…?"

"No, thank the gods," Link scoffed. "You brought one soldier along—Clepharas Bard, who was First Lieutenant at that time. He was the only one you trusted at that point. After you found me, he helped bring me back to the camp, where you treated my wounds personally. My core temperature was dangerously low, and you used this same magic technique to restore it. You watched over me for days, until my condition had stabilized enough for travel. Then you arranged to have me brought to the castle, so I could recover in the infirmary."

He fell silent then, but Zelda missed the sorrow in his face. Her pain had almost entirely subsided, and sleep was fast upon her.

"And after that…?" she whispered, straining to keep her eyes open.

Link lowered his gaze. "My recovery was… difficult. The pain kept me awake at night, and my medicine often lost its effect well before I could take another dose. I had no choice but to lie there and let my body heal. My breathing was too shallow, and Maddox feared I would fall ill.

"But you continued to watch over me," he added softly. "Not only did you ease my pain, you changed my bandages, you helped me breathe properly… Even when I woke in the middle of the night, you left your chamber and came all the way to the infirmary to care for me. You no longer care who saw, or what rumors came of it. You would have stayed in my room from dusk to dawn, had you gotten your way…"

Zelda caught the quiver in his voice, and despite his smile she saw his composure slip—if only for a moment. She wanted to say something kind, something that might comfort him, but her thoughts slipped away like wisps of fog.

"I wish… I could remember…"

Her hand sought his beneath the covers, brushing his fingers before she finally, peacefully drifted off.

* * *

xXx

* * *

Link watched Zelda's eyes flutter and close, though he waited another few moments before he withdrew his hands. He felt drained from the heavy use of magic, too exhausted to process the countless emotions he had suppressed for Zelda's sake. Still he lingered there a while longer, watching her face until he was certain she had fallen asleep. Then slowly he rose from his chair and left the room.

Ruto, who still waited in the other room, immediately rose to her feet.

"Is she asleep?" she whispered.

Link nodded, avoiding her concerned gaze.

"Thank the gods. I'll have someone monitoring her at all times, just in case she wakes. Maddox should arrive sometime this afternoon."

Again Link nodded, too tired to offer a better response.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked, resting a hand on his arm.

"No," he murmured, his tone void of emotion. "I… I need to be alone for a while. Please send for me if she wakes."

"Of course."

"Ruto." Link forced himself to meet her gaze, steeling himself against the pity in her amethyst eyes. "Say nothing about… what might have happened. There will come a time when she needs to know, but not now. She's dealing with enough as it is."

Ruto gave him a solemn nod. "I understand."

With that Link turned and left the room, relieved to find the corridor had emptied since he went to help Zelda. He walked toward his own chamber in a daze, struggling to process the depth of his loss.

 _Nothing is certain,_ he tried to remind himself. _You don't know what happened._

Entering the now quiet chamber, which bore no sign of Zelda's incident, Link found himself heading for Shayne's bedroom. There he sank into a chair a short distance from the bed, not wanting to wake him.

It was then, as he gazed upon his son's sleeping face, that he allowed his emotions to surface.

He allowed himself to recognize that his feelings were conflicted, that somewhere beneath his sorrow he also felt some measure of relief—relief that Zelda would not face another pregnancy. He would never know whether she had actually miscarried, but either way her incident confirmed that she was not with child.

She likely had no idea what was happening to her. She had forgotten her entire adolescence after all. In that way she was like a child again, learning the trials of womanhood as she experienced them. She was not ready to bear another child, especially one she could not remember consenting to carry.

The possibility had weighed on his mind more than he cared to admit. Even if Zelda had embraced such a complicated situation, Link questioned his ability to do the same. As much as he wanted another child, the memory of Shayne's difficult birth still haunted him. He would have struggled to hide those fears day after day, month after month, not just for Zelda's sake but for Shayne and the public as well…

Zelda had never shared Link's emotional paradox, but she had acknowledged his fear with compassion and understanding. They had both agreed that one child was enough to bring them happiness, and they chose to leave their fate in the hands of the gods, never pushing one way or another.

 _But Shayne..._ Link glanced toward his son with a painful stab of remorse. Shayne's happiness was another matter.

He was the sole heir to Hyrule's throne, doomed live an isolated childhood despite his parents' efforts to bring him happiness. Visits with playmates were scheduled, monitored, and restricted. Over time his friends would learn to keep a respectful distance, and Shayne was bound to notice as he grew older. Zelda had lived that lonely childhood, and both she and Link wanted better for their son.

The best solution, they had agreed, was a sibling—a constant companion in his daily life.

Yet even knowing the joy another son or daughter would bring to his family, Link could not deny that a part of him had hoped to avoid it.

 _Coward_ , his inner voice jeered. _Disgraceful_.

Link bowed his head and clenched his teeth, fighting to suppress his tears. It was all too much—too much grief and confusion to carry on his own.

How different would their lives be if Zelda hadn't fallen that night? Had he brought all this misery upon them?

Had he, in his selfish lack of faith, somehow angered the gods and robbed his family of a happier life?

 _And they chose you to bear the Triforce of Courage… Preposterous._

Link knew that if Zelda— _his_ Zelda—had been there with him, she would have assured him that the gods were not so cruel, and that fate moved in ways no mortal could explain. She had always been there with her unshakable logic, her loving reassurances… He felt so lost without her, so desperate for her companionship, her unfailing ability to clear his head and ease the weight on his heart…

But until her memories returned, his own strength would have to be enough. He would have to carry on, wrestling his doubt and facing his demons.

Alone.


	11. Discord

AN: Thank you all for sticking with me after that heavy last chapter! I took a calculated risk with the plot, but hopefully it will all come together in the end. I really truly appreciate all the thoughtful feedback I received - your reviews help me continue to grow as a writer. As usual, I hope this chapter is worth the wait. :)

* * *

— DISCORD —

* * *

The lights of Hyrule Castle shone in the darkening twilight as the royal carriage rolled through the outermost gate of the castle grounds. Zelda watched the silhouetted spires draw closer, surprised to feel a wave of affection for the familiar sight. She was the only passenger to admire it, however, for Shayne had long fallen asleep in her arms, and even Maddox snored quietly against the opposite window.

 _Home_ , Zelda thought, idly stroking Shayne's hair. Despite the drastic changes in her life, she knew in her heart that she belonged there, for better or worse. Her path had been thrust before her, chosen by her former self, but it was her life and hers alone. Only she could take up the roles assigned to her, and she felt ready to embrace them.

She had not expected to end her retreat with such firm resolve, considering her unexpected incident. Knowing she would endure such pain and discomfort every month, simply because she had not conceived a child… It seemed terribly unfair, yet the experience had strengthened her somehow. She had faced her first trial of womanhood, and a piece of her identity had been restored.

Maddox had explained that she likely inherited that particular struggle from her mother, a woman of strong character but weak constitution. Zelda's own condition was rarely so extreme, Maddox assured her, but also inconsistent and thus difficult to predict. Zelda privately bemoaned this new information, but she also realized how fortunate she was to have such an excellent physician, not to mention a caring husband…

There it was again—the strange, fluttering sensation that seemed to happen whenever she thought about Link. That he had come all the way to Zora's Domain in the middle of the night, just to make sure she was all right…

 _But how had he known to come?_

A small voice still lingered in the back of her mind, uttering paranoid, unpleasant thoughts. _The incident was orchestrated somehow—an elaborate ruse to gain your trust. How else could he have appeared when he did?_

Zelda could not bring herself to seriously consider such a dreadful possibility. Her memory of Link treating her pain was foggy at best, but she easily recalled the compassion in his quiet voice, the gentleness in his careful touch. Her previous suspicion of him had all but faded, replaced by a desire to know him better, to continue building their relationship.

She had hoped to spend more time with him there at the Domain, but Link had departed shortly after she woke the following afternoon. Maddox had arrived by then, and the worst of her condition had passed. Having spent several hours with Shayne, Link had no reason to stay and further neglect his duties.

Zelda breathed a quiet sigh, recalling their last interaction with some uncertainty. She had been dressed and presentable for a change, though still bedridden, and there had been some awkwardness as he approached her bedside. She had found herself suddenly bashful in his presence, aware of her blush as she thanked him for coming to her aid. Link had responded with a light but lingering kiss to her hand.

" _I will always come for you,"_ he had said.

Despite his warm sincerity, Zelda had been a little disappointed by his farewell. It had been too courteous, too reserved. She felt ready to move beyond that stage of their relationship, on toward friendship or even courtship, but Link seemed reluctant to follow. This sudden revelation had distracted her, so much that she neglected to ask the question that still weighed upon her mind: _How had he known?_

Zelda had spent four days recuperating among the Zoras, forced to cancel her trip to Goron City. Naturally Shayne was disappointed by this change of plans, and his mother's mysterious ailment only troubled him further—as had his father's inability to stay with them. Ruto and Kaju found other ways to keep him and their own children entertained, but Zelda had noticed Shayne's waning enthusiasm as she tucked him in each night.

Thus she had made another change in plans—to which Shayne happily agreed—and their small party departed early that afternoon instead of the following morning.

Zelda felt her pulse quicken as the carriage passed through the final gate and slowed toward the castle entrance. She knew the Royal Guard had long sighted them and notified Captain Ian, who likely sent word to Lady Ariella, the Royal Chamberlain, who likely alerted Impa, who then informed Link himself. A smile tugged at Zelda's lips as she imagined the hasty chain reaction she had caused. She even dared to picture the delight on Link's face when he learned of his family's early return.

 _A tempered sort of delight,_ she mused. _Inner delight._

And there he was, standing outside the castle entrance, looking alert and eager to greet them. Zelda's heart quickened at the sight of him, then again when their eyes met through the window. Link smiled at her—a genuine, welcoming smile—and Zelda returned it, feeling that unfamiliar shyness return.

She was relieved to see the rest of her welcoming party consisted only of Impa, Ariella, and Ian, who fell back as Link stepped forward to receive her. The carriage door opened, and Zelda moved to help him take Shayne. The boy murmured in protest, then relaxed and wrapped his arms around Link's neck.

"Papa," he sighed, nestling his head against his father's shoulder as he drifted back to sleep. Link held him close, his face betraying his relief.

"Welcome home," he said, meeting Zelda's gaze as she stepped down from the carriage. Maddox followed behind her, yawning as he offered his own cheerful greeting.

After salutations had been exchanged with the rest of the welcome party, Ian and Ariella returned to their duties while Link and Impa accompanied Zelda to her chamber. Four attendants followed a short distance behind them, carrying Zelda's and Shayne's belongings.

Zelda was glad for Impa's company. Despite the countless questions she wanted to ask Link, she knew those would have to come later. The trio made casual small talk instead, though Impa asked most of the questions. Zelda cursed her and her inability to engage Link in easy conversation. She knew it had something to do with her pulse quickening whenever she laid eyes on him, or the way her mind filled with self-conscious thoughts and other silly things she didn't dare speak aloud.

Once they had reached Zelda's chamber, Impa ushered all four attendants inside to give the parents some privacy with their son. Quietly Zelda opened the door and went to turn down Shayne's bedding so that Link could tuck him in without waking him.

Zelda watched him bend down to kiss Shayne's forehead, struggling to fully believe she and Link had created that beautiful little boy. The implications still overwhelmed her, and somewhere deep down, in a place she tried very hard to ignore, Zelda felt a deep sense of loss.

Quickly she buried those feelings and followed Link out into the hall, where he closed the door behind them.

"He'll be up very early in the morning," Link warned her. "No doubt more energized than the two of us combined."

Zelda sighed, feigning grave resignation. "I feared as much. I am prepared to face the consequences of my actions."

Link gave her a smile, looking thoughtful as he studied her a moment.

"I'm glad you're back," he said softly.

Zelda's own smile brightened, and she hoped her blush didn't look as red as it felt. Before she could reply, however, Impa emerged from Zelda's chamber behind him.

"Zelda, you must be hungry," she said. "Maddox mentioned that you haven't had supper yet."

"I am, actually," Zelda admitted. "I'll have something brought up to my room."

"Link hasn't had his supper yet either," Impa told her, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "He can join you, if you like."

Zelda looked at Link, noticing he seemed a bit uncomfortable. Refusing to let it discourage her, she gave him a warm smile.

"That would be marvelous," she said. "Unless… you still have things you need to do?"

"Oh, he's done for the day," Impa replied. "Aren't you, Link?"

He cast her a discreet look, then gave Zelda a polite smile. "Apparently I am. I would be delighted to join you."

"Excellent," Impa said with approval. "I'll inform the kitchen staff."

* * *

xXx

* * *

Zelda had not expected to be so nervous.

She had enjoyed a hot shower after her long carriage ride, but her cheerful mood quickly succumbed to nerves once she began to browse the contents of her wardrobe. Her maids stood by while she considered gown after gown, determined to make an impression.

She felt silly doing such a thing for her husband, a man who did not concern himself with her choice of dress. Yet she wanted to look beautiful—for him and for herself. She hoped to make real progress with him that evening, and she would make every attempt to show that she cared about their relationship.

Yet too much of an impression would have the opposite effect—that much she knew. And so, after nearly a dozen gowns had been strewn across her bed, Zelda turned to her maids with a frustrated huff.

" _Oh, just dress me already!"_ she exclaimed.

The maids did a poor job of stifling their laughter, but Zelda was glad to see them amused by her dilemma, rather than saddened.

" _Your independence is admirable, my Lady,"_ the older maid had chuckled. _"But there is a proper time and place for it."_

" _And you are already so beautiful,"_ the other assured her. _"You don't need much to make an impression, especially for his Majesty."_

They selected a pale blue, long sleeved gown with a bateau neckline and a long column skirt. Modest but flattering, it was perfect for a less formal dinner arrangement. Her hair fell in soft, loose locks and curled toward the ends, pulled away from her face by golden clips.

Zelda was pleased with the result, but still her nerves remained.

A mouth watering aroma had lured her into the drawing room, where she found the table properly set with two steaming entrees, fresh side salads, glasses of water and wine, and rolls with a butter rosette to share.

An attendant straightened as Zelda entered the room and offered a polite curtsy. "His Majesty is on his way to join you, my Lady," she said. "Is there anything else you require?"

"No, thank you," Zelda said as she sank into her chair. "You may go."

The attendant did so silently, leaving Zelda a few moments to gather her thoughts—and her confidence. She tried to focus on the delicious meal before her, glad to see the cooks had prepared a tender pot roast with vegetables and creamed potatoes. After days of seafood at Zora's Domain, she had begun crave the taste of meat.

Barely two minutes passed before the double doors opened, and Zelda looked up to see Link enter the room. Hurriedly she rose to greet him, and Link seemed almost amused by her formality.

"Hello again," he said, smiling as he joined her at the table. "You look beautiful."

Zelda thanked him as they sat down, cursing the blush that inevitably warmed her face. He said it so casually, without any sign of unease.

 _Of course not,_ her inner voice scoffed. _He's long grown out of such insecurities._

 _Or at least learned to conceal them,_ a wiser voice contributed.

Link offered to say grace, and for a while he led the conversation as well, asking questions about her travel conditions, Shayne's behavior, Ruto's family—all the topics Zelda had anticipated. She answered every question, adding whatever amusing anecdotes she could recall, and Link listened with an easy smile. He even laughed a few times—a quiet laugh but not at all forced. Bolstered by his relaxed demeanor, Zelda attempted to nudge their conversation toward the more serious questions on her mind.

"I want to thank you again," she said quietly, "for coming all that way to help me. I know you spared me a great deal of pain."

Link waved a dismissive hand. "I'm just glad I could help you. And I'm relieved to hear you still enjoyed your retreat despite what happened."

"Oh, I did, once the pain was under control. Maddox is an excellent physician."

Link nodded. "He is the best."

"And Zora's Domain is such a beautiful place," Zelda added. "Very peaceful too. Ruto made sure I had every available comfort, and Shayne was content to play in the water for hours, though Kaju did keep him and the other children occupied. They explored the river one afternoon, went fishing another… fishing the Zora way, of course."

Link smiled. "Quite different from the Hylian way."

"So he told me—he was quite impressed," she laughed. "I'm sure you'll hear all about it tomorrow."

She sobered then, fingering her half empty wine glass as she pondered Shayne's behavior during their visit.

"He was such a good little guest," she murmured, "but I could tell he was ready to go home. He missed you… He asked about you often."

"Is that why you returned early?"

"Partly, yes… I was ready to come home too."

Silence fell between them, suspending countless unspoken things.

"I'm sorry you weren't able to visit Goron City," Link said, idly rearranging the vegetables on his plate. "I… hope you found what you were looking for."

Zelda watched him a moment, catching the uncertainty in his voice. "I think I did."

Link looked up at her, seemingly surprised by her reply, or more the serious way she had said it. Zelda smiled gently, wishing he wasn't so difficult to read.

"Have you… remembered anything?" he asked. "Anything you want to ask me about?"

"Oh… no, no memories yet," Zelda admitted, feeling a tug of guilt. "I've had dreams, but the images fade as soon as I wake. I can't seem to hold onto them."

Link glanced down at his plate, obviously disappointed. "I see."

Awkwardness crept back into the room, accompanied by the quiet clinking of silverware.

"I do remember you mentioning that I've saved your life," Zelda said, determined to pick up their conversation. "More than once, even? I can't imagine when I might have done that—other than that terrible night in the mountains you told me about…"

She trailed off, realizing the question might do more harm than good, but Link humored her nonetheless.

"Well," he replied, "some of those incidents happened during the Imprisoning War, when you were disguised as Sheik. It was too dangerous for you to accompany me in my travels, but you protected me from afar, probably more often than I realized.

"You were the embodiment of stealth," he added with a smile, "always blending with the shadows and vanishing before I could say a word. Sometimes you appeared out of nowhere, when I was outnumbered in a fight, for example. You would assist me and then vanish once I was out of danger."

Zelda scoffed. "I hope I wasn't obnoxious about it."

Link shook his head, his smile fading. "It was easier to rest at night, knowing you might be watching over me."

Zelda forced a smile and reached for her wine, feeling oddly intimidated by the actions of her former self.

"I can see how I had reason to help you during that time," she said. "But I must assume this life has been less… eventful."

Link set his water glass aside and met her inquisitive gaze, his expression calm and guarded as usual. Yet Zelda recognized an intensity in his eyes, one she didn't understand.

"What do you know of he Vandelian Invasion?" he asked her.

Zelda straightened in her chair, trying to recall what she had read in the library.

"I know that Ashton of Vadelius, with the help of the traitor Vasilis Durithan and an unnamed Tar Alemian sorcerer, used black magic to summon an undead army and force my surrender. His tyranny lasted almost six months before he was overthrown by the Resistance movement, and Vandelius was forced to withdraw once the Alliance interfered. Our records mention that you founded that Resistance, and that for a time you were believed to be dead…"

She paused then, watching Link pick at his potatoes. "...That must have been quite a tumultuous time."

"Yes," he said quietly. "It was."

Zelda waited for him to offer more information, but he seemed lost in his thoughts.

"I suspect the official records don't tell the whole story," she coaxed.

Link stroked the stem of his wine glass, avoiding her watchful gaze.

"Some things are best left unsaid," he said quietly. "...Things not easily understood by those who did not experience them."

Zelda sighed inwardly. His obvious reluctance to discuss that particular time frame only increased her curiosity, but she didn't want to force him. Rather than drop the subject entirely, however, she tried another approach.

"I was relieved to read that I played _some_ part in the Resistance," she said with a smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

Link returned it, much to her relief. "You were actively involved. You remained at the castle a few months in the beginning—mostly to protect me—but you sought opportunities to aid the Resistance. Eventually you became pregnant with Shayne, and you fled the castle before Ashton could find out."

More questions began to fill Zelda's mind, but she silenced them and rested her chin on her palm, content to let Link talk.

"I wanted you to stay in the Resistance camp where it was safe," he told her softly, "but that was very difficult for you, especially when I kept getting myself into trouble. I was injured in a village attack not long after you left the castle. The wound was so badly infected you had me brought to a fairy fountain… I would have died otherwise."

"My goodness," Zelda breathed., "Is that why you have that long scar across your heart?"

Link looked at her, seemingly startled. "My… scar?"

"The white one," she said carefully. "Or was that a separate incident? Fairy healing doesn't normally leave a—"

"How do you know about that?"

Zelda blinked, taken aback by the tension in his voice. "I saw it in a pictograph… in one of Ruto's albums. I paged through a few while I was still recuperating. She said I should ask you about it."

Link visibly struggled for a reply. "It… It's a long story… One for another evening."

The next thing Zelda knew, he had risen from his chair and placed his napkin on the table.

"I should return to my work," he said quickly. "I know Impa excused me, but there are some things I really must do. Thank you for the invitation."

"Wait," Zelda said, standing up as well, "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you—"

"No, no," Link gave her a smile, obviously embarrassed. "Please, don't apologize. You've done nothing wrong. I… I'm still adjusting to all of this."

Zelda stared at him, baffled by his sudden retreat.

"Goodnight, Zelda…"

"Wait, please!"

Link paused and turned to her with obvious reluctance.

"There's something I must know," she said, moving away from the table. "That night at the Domain… How did you know to come?"

He stared at her, his face unreadable.

"Your timing was immediate," she elaborated, taking another step closer. "Too fast for any message to reach you… How did you know?"

Link looked away, and for a moment Zelda feared he wouldn't tell her. But then his blue eyes met hers, and his face was filled with sorrow.

"...I felt you."

"What?" Zelda whispered, certain she had misheard him.

"I felt you," he said again. "We're… connected, you and I. We can communicate with a mere thought, and sometimes we can sense each other's emotions. When you woke without your memories, I summoned a barrier to suppress our bond, and I've maintained it ever since. I'm sure you understand why.

"But that night," he added, his voice barely more than a whisper, "you broke through it. I felt you… cry out. I didn't know what had happened… I just knew I had to help you."

Again Zelda stared at him, amazed that such a thing could exist between them.

"Take it away," she whispered.

"What?" Link said with disbelief.

"The barrier. Take it away. Let me feel the bond."

 _Let me feel_ you. The words echoed through her mind, unspoken. _Let me_ know _you._

Slowly Link shook his head, giving her a gentle look of regret. "It would overwhelm you. We gained that level of intimacy when we married. The way things are now… we aren't there yet."

A blush colored Zelda's face, but she pushed her insecurity aside and drew herself up, offering him a humble smile.

"...Then I look forward to the day we are," she said.

Link stared at her for what seemed an eternity, his face a mix of appreciation and uncertainty. Then slowly he moved toward her, closing the space between them in three strides. Gently he took her face in his hands, letting his thumbs caress the curve of her cheeks, and Zelda's breath hitched in her throat.

"...As do I," he whispered.

Then he pulled away, and the air seemed cold where his hands had been.

"Goodnight," he said softly.

Zelda watched him leave, too stunned to summon a response. Only when the door closed behind him were her lungs able to work again. She stood there a moment with a hand pressed to her heart, as if to calm the fierce pounding beneath it.

 _He is still devoted to her... E_ _ven the memory of her._

 _How can I possibly compete?_


End file.
